Sudden Revelations
by timeaftertime09
Summary: What could have developed between Daniel & Betty, if Daniel had turned to Betty about his issues with Tyler.
1. Chapter 1

_I realize the last thing I need to do is juggle two Detty stories at once, but I couldn't help it, lol. I had an idea and figured I'd go with it. So here's the 1st installment - enjoy! :)_

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Daniel felt this weight on top of him. He hadn't slept this well in days. Did he have a date last night? He slowly opened his eyes, unsure of his surroundings, then came across the brightly colored walls and the cartons of Chinese on the floor and remembered everything. He looked down at his chest and saw her silky dark brown hair. He inhaled the faint scent of vanilla and cocoa butter. He smiled. She seemed so peaceful that he didn't want to wake her.

She'd been so good to him – letting him vent about Tyler – but never pressing if he didn't want to talk. She'd just pull out a movie or a game and give him just the distraction and company he needed. He was so relieved that they had made up after their fight over her blog award.

He hated not talking to her and didn't know what he'd have done if they hadn't gotten past everything. He was such an idiot not to have seen how much he respected and admired her. She was a force to be reckoned with, and yet at the same time, so sweet and innocent.

He felt himself becoming more and more intrigued by her recently. Maybe it was her new hairstyle and glasses. He had to admit that her fashion sense had vastly improved. Her outfits had gone from hideous to almost, for lack of a better term, sexy. Or maybe it was her independence and new-found confidence since she had been promoted. She really wasn't his little awkward, style-impaired assistant anymore.

She had grown into a successful Junior Features editor and didn't need him. Not that she ever really did, anyway. She was always helping _him _stay out of trouble for the most part. He guessed it took her promotion . . . her absence from being his assistant, for him to step back and truly notice the change in her . . . to discover a whole new and equally beautiful side to her.

Secretly, he had even caught himself staring at her a few times that past night . . . the way she kept tucking her hair behind her ear . . . how engrossed she got into movies she'd watched 100 times before . . . how she knew all the lines before they were spoken . . . the way she blushed and got uncomfortable watching love scenes, because he was right next to her . . .

The way she tried to hide her tears during depressing moments . . . the way she laughed . . . the way she threw popcorn at him or shoved his chest when he teased her . . . the looks she gave him every time he tried to convince her what he had put down on the Scrabble board was an actual word . . . her reaction when one of them really was . . . She was just so . . . so – he didn't know how to describe her, but she definitely had him starting to think of her in a different light.

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He was brought out of his trance when he felt her stir in her sleep. She began mumbling incoherently, which amused him to no end. She settled back down again, her head right below his chin. He gently stroked her hair and rested his eyes, until he felt her waking up.

"Hey . . . Morning." Daniel softly said as he looked down at her.

"Mmmm . . . Morning, Daniel," Betty yawned, not quite comprehending anything yet. "Daniel?"

Betty suddenly realized, looking at him and then back to how she was positioned – directly on top of him, with her hands on his chest.

"Oh my god!" she freaked out, scrambling to get off of her friend. She ended up falling off the couch and bumping her forehead on the coffee table. "Ow!"

"Betty? Are you okay?" Daniel kneeled on the floor next to her. He brushed her hair back, away from her forehead. "You're bleeding - where do you keep your First Aid kit?"

He got up and then helped her back on the couch.

"It's in the kitchen cabinet - above the stove," she told him, holding her head.

Daniel came back with the kit and an ice pack.

"Here, this might sting a little . . ." he took a pad of alcohol and gingerly dabbed it on her cut.

"Aaah . . .!" she grimaced.

"Sorry . . ." he apologized and gently blew on it, trying to ease the sting.

They glimpsed at each other's eyes, both feeling a surprising spark, and immediately looked away. Daniel nervously fumbled with opening the band-aid wrapper, and carefully placed it on her wound. He then held the ice pack just outside of the bandaged area.

"Wow, that's cold!" she cried.

He chuckled.

"Thank you," Betty told him, looking sincerely into his blue eyes.

"You're welcome," he smiled, running his other hand along her cheek.

They continued to stare at each other, getting lost in each other's eyes, until Daniel couldn't take it any longer. He knew it was wrong and strange to have this urge – she was his best friend – but he had to know what it'd be like, what it'd feel like to . . . He put down the ice pack without taking his eyes off of her and slowly leaned in, lightly brushing his lips against hers.

He felt her tense up a little, but then respond back. He went deeper, parting her lips with his. Much to his surprise, she still wasn't resisting. In fact, she was the complete opposite. She grabbed his face in her hands and covered his bottom lip with both of hers. He gradually slid his tongue in, exploring her mouth even more.

He'd kissed so many women, and yet his best friend – with braces – managed to dumbfound him. He'd never had a sensation like this with anyone before; it was incredible. He didn't know what it was about her or this moment, but he never wanted it to stop.

What was she doing? This was Daniel - her flakey, needy, sometimes dorky, occasionally aggravating, but always lovable friend and boss. But now he was _Daniel_ . . . a very sexy man who was giving her feelings and desires she'd never felt before. The heat continued to build, the connection between them magnetic and indescribable.

She felt his hands in her hair, his lips crashing into hers one last time before they began to wander down her neck. Her head kept telling her to restrain herself, that it was wrong on so many levels. But her heart and body told her to let go and enjoy the moment for all it was worth. Her head unfortunately won.

"Wilhelmina!" she blurted out.

"What?" Daniel snapped out of his concentration of the curve between her neck and shoulder. _That's_ the first word that comes out of her mouth after what was happening here? He gave her a weird, confused look.

"My – my presentation – I'm going to be late! I - I begged her to let me pitch something and she's going to kill me!" she sprung up and frantically pulled him off the couch, pushing him towards the door.

"Betty – I – " Daniel attempted to say something, but Betty interrupted him.

"You're going to be late, too. Sneak in the back of the building and grab something from the Closet to change into. I'll see you later," she said, slamming the door before he could even form a single sentence.

She leaned against the door and paused for a moment. What the hell did she just do? She smacked her forehead in embarrassment, but instantly regretted it.

"Ow!" she shook it off and ran into the shower before she wasted any more time.

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_What_ just happened? Daniel stood outside Betty's apartment, blankly staring at the door she had just slammed in his face. Was she really just freaked about being late for work or did he scare her off? Damn it! He should've stopped after the initial kiss; made it short and sweet. They would've talked it through and that would've been it, either way.

But no, he had to push. He had to go farther. He couldn't help it – once he started, he found himself wanting her more and more. But she never protested. She seemed very responsive. Unless – did she feel obligated? He hoped he hadn't pressured her. He didn't know. He ran his hands through his hair and paced back and forth outside her door.

The more he thought about it, the more apprehensive he grew – of losing her, of losing their friendship . . . of losing everything he had come to know, love, and rely on for almost four years. He hated how impulsive he always was - never thinking – just reacting to however he felt at that very moment. What the hell was he thinking?

Betty wasn't one of his one-night stands, bang-her-and-leave-her kind of girls. She respected herself more than that. He admired that about her. She took all of her relationships slowly and seriously. Hell, he doubted she even kissed a guy on the cheek on a first date, much less stuck her tongue down his throat. He was such a jackass! He hoped he hadn't ruined everything, but he didn't have time to stand there all day and analyze it any more.

He started to call the car service, but thought better of it. By the time it got there he really _would_ be late to work. The last thing he needed was another criticism from Wilhelmina. She already tried to overstep her boundaries as co-editor as it was. He hailed a cab and cringed as he got into it.

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Betty ran out of the elevator at MODE, past the reception desk, and luckily managed to be the last of many to file into the conference room. "I'm not sure where our co-editor is, but apparently he doesn't think this issue is as important as I do. Now before he wastes any more of my time, Betty, let's hear your idea," Wilhelmina started the meeting. Betty felt so bad that Daniel was late. Not that it mattered, but she shouldn't have shoved him out like that. She could've at least allowed him to take a quick shower and ride in with her.

Betty pulled out her laptop case and opened it. Her eyes widened. It was empty. She couldn't believe she forgot it. What was she going to do? She panicked.

"I - I . . ." her mind went blank.

She racked her brain for the topic she had so carefully researched and – nothing. Daniel discreetly slid in the door and quietly took his place beside Wilhelmina.

"Well, spit it out, Woman! I don't have all day!" Willie snapped.

She was dead. So much for getting another piece published. She looked up – and there was Daniel. Talk about bad timing. Here she was, desperate to think of a cover for her mistake and now all she could think about were his lips on hers. She hated having to improvise; being put on the spot. Her eyes wandered back to Daniel's lips.

"Come on, Betty – speak or you're done!" Wilhelmina threatened with one last warning.

"Lips!" Betty exclaimed.

"Excuse me?" Wilhelmina questioned.

"Thin or pouty? Gloss or stick? Which shades go best with this season's colors? What brands last the longest? Which are the best flavors? What do celebrities prefer? What do guys love and hate?" she suggested, desperately.

As she timidly kept eye contact with everyone in the room, she happened upon Daniel's eyes and blushed. There was still silence from Wilhelmina. Betty nervously cleared her throat and continued, running out of thoughts.

"The – the history of lipstick . . ." Betty reached.

"Alright, alright. Enough! I suppose your idea doesn't completely reek," Wilhelmina begrudgingly conceded. "Speaking of which, so nice of you to finally join us, Daniel. Coming in from your 'flavor of the night' I presume?"

"What? How did you? But - I – changed . . .?" Daniel said, confused.

"Oh, please! That bed-head of yours and the stale stench of yesterday's cologne?" she retorted. "Moving on - _Marc_ . . . !"

She left him flabbergasted, and for the first time, embarrassed about her revealing anything about his love life – even if she was a little off-base this time. Normally he'd laugh it off and be happy to flaunt it. After all, he had a reputation – but this wasn't like that. Betty was – well she was - she . . . He wasn't sure what she was yet, but he realized he didn't want to be seen as a womanizer anymore – least of all, by her. He barely concentrated the rest of the meeting, and unknowingly had allowed Wilhelmina to run it.

Betty zoned out during the remainder of the meeting. She hoped it wasn't written all over her face, when Wilhelmina made her comments to Daniel. She had felt her cheeks turn beat red, but she was almost positive that the last person everyone was looking at was her. She felt a little relieved. But she still wasn't sure how to deal with what happened that morning. It was probably not a big deal – a momentary lapse of judgment between friends. They were both vulnerable right now. No need to read anything into it – it was what it was and that was it –

"Betty! Earth to Betty . . . That's it – I'm cutting your article! Obviously you're more focused on your damned daydreaming than this magazine!" Wilhelmina threatened.

"Huh? What? No – I'm awake! I'm paying attention - I promise!" Betty snapped out of it and tried to save herself.

She noticed everyone else was gone except Daniel.

"Apparently you and Daniel both were off in 'La La Land'. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you two were involved. But sadly, I have to give Daniel more credit than to stoop to standards that low," she informed Betty.

"How dare you - ?" Daniel immediately shot up and got in Willie's face.

"No! Daniel, it's okay. She's right – it _is_ crazy to even think about it. You do have a reputation and I'm never going to live up to it. We all know that. It's not a big deal – I'm fine with it." Betty came over and stopped him, trying to maintain a cheerful and uncaring tone, despite how much the reality of it all stung.

"No, it's _not_ okay! I can't let her talk to you like that," Daniel insisted.

"Just let it go, Daniel," Betty gently put her hand on his arm, pleading for him not to make things even worse, and walked out.

"How could you do that?" Daniel yelled after making sure Betty had left. Little did he know, she was listening through the door. "Betty is beautiful, and smart, and kind . . . She's the best person I know. She doesn't deserve to be treated that way! If anything, _I_ don't deserve to be on the same level with _her_ – not the other way around!"

"Really, Daniel? Are you feeling alright? You're pouring on the love-fest for your furry little friend much thicker than usual. You're not – ugh – I can't even say it . . .!" Willie disgustedly observed.

Daniel's face turned red.

"No! Definitely not even close! I – uh – Just don't let it happen again!" he struggled with his words, and walked out to try and find Betty, who had rushed off after hearing him adamantly deny feeling anything for her.

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"Heeyyy, Latin Love Bug!" Marc eagerly grabbed Betty's arm as she sped by the reception desk.

"Not now, Marc!" Betty brushed him off, but he and Amanda had her cornered.

"So . . . a little birdie told me that you were zoning out in the meeting, fantasizing about some guy. Who is he? Is he hot? Can I have him?" Amanda zealously asked.

"Eww . . . what's that thing on your forehead? It's all black and blue?" Marc cringed as he moved her hair away to gape and poke at it.

"Ow!" Betty smacked Marc's hand away.

"It's nothing. I hit my head on the coffee table –" she tried to explain.

"While you were with your lovah . . .?" Marc interrupted her.

"No! Dan - I mean Matt – I mean Marc! Ugh – I give up! There is no guy, okay?" Betty insisted, frustrated.

She couldn't believe she'd almost let it slip.

"So your secret lovah really _is_ Daniel? Or did Matt come back for one wild night? Or maybe both? So it's a girl? Interesting . . ." Marc and Amanda simultaneously tried to guess what was going on.

Betty let out a loud, exasperated sigh.

"Look, I hit my head on the coffee table while trying to get my shoes. There is no guy, Marc. And you know I've never been into girls that way, Amanda. Now both of you just leave me the hell alone and get your gossip fix somewhere else!" she left in a huff and went into the bathroom for some peace.

"Ooooh . . . Bitchy . . ." Marc reacted to Betty's less than cheerful mood.

"Yeah . . . looks like _someone's_ got her Granny panties in a bunch! Was it something we said?" Amanda asked, oblivious.

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Daniel spotted Marc and Amanda at the reception desk.

"Hey, have you guys seen Betty?" he asked, desperate to straighten things out.

"You mean the Big Bad Mexican Wolf? She ducked in there," Amanda pointed to the ladies' room. Daniel headed toward it.

"But I wouldn't go in there, if I were you. She looked mad enough to blow a house down and then eat whatever was left," Marc added.

Daniel put his hand on the door, then took it off and hesitated. He put his hand back on the door and paused again, then turned around and walked toward his office. A few seconds later, he changed his mind and came charging through the bathroom door.

"Daniel? You can't be in here! Have you become illiterate, as well?" Betty exclaimed, irritated that he'd invaded her privacy.

Damn it! He wasn't supposed to see her like this . . . face red and puffy, mascara smeared down her cheeks from her tears. She was a mess, and she shouldn't be. This meant nothing. Now he'd just start feeling sorry for her . . . be overly sweet to her out of obligation. She didn't need or want that. She wasn't even sure why she was feeling this way anyway. It was just Daniel. So what if he didn't really feel anything towards her? They were friends, and it was better if they just stayed that way.

"Betty, we need to talk," he calmly said. "Have you been crying?"

He walked closer to her. He couldn't stand to see her this upset; it broke his heart every time. "Just go away, Daniel," she coldly said between sniffles.

"Betty, what Wilhelmina said . . ." Daniel began.

"Was the truth," Betty finished for him and started to walk away.

And it was, so why did she let it get to her?

He spun her around, forcing her to look him in the eyes.

"No - not at all! Betty, you have to believe me when I tell you that none of what she said in there was true," he cupped her face and wiped her tears with the pads of his thumbs. "You - are an intelligent, confident, kind, funny, caring, beautiful, amazing woman. Any man would be lucky to be with you."

"I know you're just saying that, Daniel." Betty resisted his hold and tried to get away, but Daniel was faster.

"If you don't believe my words, believe in this," he grabbed her face and pulled her into a passionate kiss.

It felt so good and so right that Betty almost caved, but then she told herself she shouldn't be dumb enough to buy into his charm. He didn't really mean it – he couldn't. Not about her, anyway. She was just his lower-than-average friend.

What happened this morning probably was just a reflex, to him, that had nothing to do with her. He more than likely forgot who he was with and reacted on instinct. She pulled away and slapped his cheek.

"I don't need your damn pity!" she shouted and stormed out, leaving Daniel more hurt and confused than he'd ever been before.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you so much for reading - I appreciate all the reviews! Here's the next chapter - enjoy! :)_

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Betty immediately ran out of MODE and took her lunch break at a deli close by. After she had calmed down a little, she sat back and actually thought about what had happened. She couldn't believe she had slapped Daniel – at work, no less.

"Oh my god, he's going to fire me!" she realized, muttering under her breath.

No wait – he couldn't. _He_ was the one who barged into the ladies room and invaded her privacy, then kissed her against her will. Well, not completely against her will – she had to admit that kissing Daniel was becoming extremely enjoyable once initiated - but enough to where she wouldn't be lying if it came down to that and her job.

What was she going to do? She couldn't face him, now – not after that. But how the hell was she supposed to avoid him? Sure, she wasn't his assistant anymore; she wasn't forced to constantly be by his side. However, she still worked for him. She guessed she could just converse with Wilhelmina if she was in desperate need of guidance until everything blew over.

Hopefully Daniel would have it all forgotten by tomorrow – or at least by the end of the week. Shouldn't be _that_ hard – he usually couldn't even remember birthdays unless they were burned into his brain or he bought the present and dropped it off six months in advance.

She smiled, remembering the time she thought Daniel had forgotten her birthday, and it turned out he had personally gone all the way to Queens to leave the present with Papi months ahead of time, knowing he'd forget if he didn't. It was one of the sweetest things he had ever done for her - not to mention how thoughtful the gift itself had been.

He had actually taken the time to find something he knew she would love, instead of the usual generic gifts he got everyone else, including his family – she knew, because she was the one who had to order them. And the inscription he wrote to her . . . Betty started to melt all over again.

_Why_ did she want to steer clear of him? She couldn't think straight. She was torn by what an amazing and caring man he was, how irresistible she suddenly found him, and by what happened after the meeting. What went on in the bathroom couldn't have meant anything, could it? If it did, why did Daniel say what he said to Wilhelmina when he thought she wasn't listening? But then again, why would he tell her all of those wonderful things and fight like hell to make her listen to him if he didn't mean them.

Sure, Daniel was a great liar, but he'd never lied to _her_. Why would he kiss her like that – like he wanted her, like he cared about her, like he really meant it – if he didn't? What was the point of leading her on, knowing the truth would come out eventually? Was he really stupid enough or cruel enough to do that to her? She didn't know anything anymore. She just kept going around in circles, analyzing the situation to death. She absently swirled the cream around in her coffee, until her phone brought her out of her daze.

"Hey, Hilda. What's up?" Betty half-heartedly answered.

"Ok, never mind why _I_ called – what's wrong with _you_?" Hilda inquired.

"Oh, nothing. Except . . . Daniel kissed me – twice." Betty hesitantly confessed.

"Whaaaat? Are you serious? Oh my god – Betty that's so great! It's about time – " Hilda squealed.

"No, Hilda – it's _not_ great. And what do mean by -" Betty got interrupted by her overzealous sister.

"Oh, no! It was on the top of your head - or your cheek – like platonic or something?" Hilda guessed, disappointedly.

"No . . . No - they were definitely real, full-on, make-you-weak-in-the-knees, leave-you-wanting-more kisses." Betty sighed.

"So what the hell is your problem? Stop talking to _me_ and go grab Daniel and get yourself some more lip action . . ." she teased.

"Hilda!" Betty protested.

"What? I'm just sayin'. I mean, if you wanna pass up a perfectly good opportunity to make out with your sexy new man . . ." Hilda continued.

"He's _not_ my man! And it's not that simple," Betty stopped her.

"Aah – but you didn't deny that he's sexy . . ." Hilda couldn't resist.

"I didn't say he _was_ either. Now stop twisting my words and help me!" Betty demanded, exasperated at this point.

"Okay. Okay. Okay. So, _why_ are you not excited about this?" Hilda curiously asked.

"Because he doesn't feel anything for me," Betty answered.

"He said that to you?" Hilda asked, in disbelief.

"No, I overheard him talking to Wilhelmina. She asked him and his exact words were, 'No! Definitely not even close!'" Betty said.

"Chica, this is Wilhelmina Slater we're talking about here. From the stories you and Justin have told me, she's a total bitch with a capital B. Do you honestly think Daniel wanted to advertise anything to her?" Hilda laughed.

"Well, no – and neither did I. That's why when he jumped to defend me to her I tried to stop him," Betty admitted.

"Whoa – he defended you to her?" Hilda tried to add up the facts.

"Yeah . . . but that was before I left - before he thought I couldn't hear him," Betty added.

"Okay . . . I'm not getting a full picture here, yet. Daniel's the one who kissed _you_ – _twice_ – but then he said he didn't have any feelings for you? So, when did you guys kiss? Was it awkward or something? How did it happen?" Hilda asked, still confused.

"Alright – I'll tell you, but you have to save your comments 'til I'm done, or we'll never get through this conversation," Betty made Hilda promise.

"Deal," her sister agreed.

"Daniel's been coming over a lot, lately. He's been having trouble dealing with his illegitimate brother, Tyler, and the fact that his mom hid it from him for 30 years. Last night, we were watching movies and playing games since he didn't feel like talking. We must've fallen asleep during the last movie. We woke up together on the couch this morning . . ." Betty knew it was taking everything for Hilda to control herself.

Shockingly, she didn't say a word.

"And I fell off from the shock of realizing I had slept directly on top of him and ended up hitting my head on the coffee table. Daniel helped take care of my cut and it just sort of happened. It was like nothing I've ever felt before – so incredible . . . so natural – like we were meant to do this all along . . . But then I blurted out Wilhelmina's name, started yammering on about being late for a presentation, and literally shoved him out the door," Betty regretfully confessed.

There was still silence on the other end.

"You can talk now," Betty told Hilda.

"Why would you _do_ that?" Hilda flipped out at her.

"I don't know – I don't know! I freaked out! I mean this is _Daniel_ we're talking about here. He's my best friend – he's my boss – he's – he's . . ." Betty trailed off.

"More than that?" Hilda added.

"Yeah . . ." Betty slowly admitted.

"So what happened after he talked to Wilhelmina?" Hilda asked.

"He found me blubbering in the restroom and I tried to kick him out. He told me how amazing I was, that any guy would be lucky to be with me, and I tried to walk away. I wouldn't listen to him, so he kissed me. And then I slapped him and stormed out," Betty confessed.

"You slapped him? Betty! What the hell were you thinking?" Hilda exclaimed.

"I don't know – I wasn't, I guess," Betty regretfully admitted.

"Damn straight, you weren't! God, Betty why are you pushing Daniel away? The poor man obviously feels something more for you, even if he's not willing to publicly admit it yet. But he _has_ done practically everything but spell it out to _you_," Hilda tried to give Betty some perspective.

"Really?" Betty asked, unsure.

"Yes, really. Ay! As many relationships as you've had, you'd think you'd get the picture by now . . ." Hilda digressed.

"Yeah, but this is _Daniel_ – it's different. We know each other - probably too well. I know his type – and I'm not even in the same vicinity. I've witnessed all of his relationships within the past four years. I've given him guidance when he needed it. I've been there to pick up the pieces when each one of them fell apart. I'm his go-to girl for advice - not the girl he wants to use it on," Betty informed Hilda.

"Yeah, but maybe that's a good thing. Maybe Daniel's finally changing. Maybe he's realizing _you_ are his type; that he's experienced enough heartache to know he needs to try something different – _be_ with someone different," Hilda contemplated.

"Maybe . . . I don't know . . ." Betty considered her sister's theory.

"Look, if you feel anything for Daniel, you need to get off your cute ass and talk to him before it's too late," Hilda advised.

"I guess you're right. Thanks, Hilda! I'll call you later," Betty hung up her phone, as she quickly headed back to the office.

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Daniel sat in his office, his cheek still burning. When Betty once told him she was from Queens so she knew how to hit, she wasn't kidding. But what stung even more was his pride. Why was she so mad at him? He stood up for her, he did everything he could to make her see how much he cared . . . how much he didn't want to see her hurt.

Couldn't she see how amazing she was? Or was she just not into him? He knew she had always looked down on his player ways. But he had changed. He didn't want to be like that anymore. She and Molly had helped him see that, made him better; made him want more than just a meaningless one-night stand.

He still didn't know what it meant – the kisses, the urges, the way she was constantly on his mind . . . he couldn't really define it. But he knew that fighting with her was never bearable. Maybe all of this was a mistake. They were amazing as friends, she was his right-hand man – er - woman at work, was whatever this was between them worth risking?

He thought back to all the times she had been there for him; how many times she had saved his ass, let him cry on her shoulder or puke on her shoes. How many times she let him just – be; just sit or stand next to him without saying anything or expecting him to, just her presence being enough. How many times she had dropped everything to come running to his side, risked her relationships, her job – for him.

He mused. She got so pissed at him sometimes when she found out why he had called. He honestly didn't know why he did it sometimes – except he just needed her opinion or wanted her company but couldn't think of a better excuse. He then thought back to that morning, her lying innocently asleep on top of him, how good it felt to hold her; be that close to her. And when he kissed her – damn . . .

"Here, you look like you could use this," Amanda strutted into Daniel's office holding an ice pack and handed it to him.

"What? Oh, thanks," Daniel said, jolted out of his thoughts.

"We told you she was in a bitchy mood . . . So . . . are we still on for tonight?" she seductively sat on the edge of his desk, and played with his tie. Daniel put down the ice pack and straightened his tie.

"Amanda . . . I think we need to talk," he began.

"It's Betty, isn't it?" Amanda assumed.

"Why would you think that?" he asked.

"Oh, come on, Daniel. You know I'm not a rocket scientist, but anyone can see she's the yin to your yang," she answered.

"Huh?" Daniel didn't understand.

"The pants to your Armani suit, she's your Marc - except at least you two have a shot at something more," Amanda explained as best as she could.

"Really? This is Betty we're still talking about, right?" Daniel looked at her skeptically.

"Don't give me that B.S.! I've seen the way you always look at her, how you are when you're with her. Sure, it's never really been a screw-me-right-here-right-now thing - it was better than that; like you loved and cared about her. The way I wish someone would look at me . . ." Amanda looked at the floor.

"Amanda –" Daniel felt sorry for her.

"No – it's ok. Really – because I think I've found a potential someone, too," she smiled, hesitantly.

"Really? That's great! Who is he?" Daniel was happy for her.

"It's Tyler," she answered.

"What? Amanda! Do you know how twisted that is? How could you even –" he started flipping out.

"You're doing it again," Amanda sighed.

"What?" Daniel was oblivious.

"You're being a douche! You don't want me, but no one else can have me? That's totally unfair – stop being such an ego-maniac!" she insisted.

"I'm not –" he shouted, then lowered his voice, remembering they were still at the office. "I'm not being an ego-maniac. I don't care who you're with as long as you're happy – and it's not Tyler."

"Awww . . . you really care. That's so sweet! But I'm not going to stop seeing Tyler. He _does_ make me happy and I really think we could be the next Brangelina – you know, minus the affairs and rumors and crap. I mean, he's a Meade – well not technically but still - _and_ he's a Hartley, and I'm Fey freakin' Sommers' daughter. We're already celebrity royalty. And we have stuff in common – besides the mind-blowing sex - did I just say that out loud?" Amanda blithely continued to gush.

"Amanda, it's okay," Daniel chuckled.

"I'm glad you've found someone . . . Even if it is Tyler," he hesitated. "Just promise that you'll call me the second he hurts you. I wanna be the first one in line to kick his ass!"

"Promise," she slyly smiled and hugged him, then whispered in his ear. "Now go get your hot Mexican Mama," she teased.

"I don't know . . ." Daniel wavered.

Amanda grabbed his hand.

"Okay, as much as I don't wanna picture you two doing the Mattress Mambo or whatever, you guys really have something. And Betty's my girl Bestie – so don't screw it up, or _I'll_ have to kick _your_ ass!" she warned him.

"Okay. Just promise me you won't say anything to anyone – including Marc – until Betty and I figure things out?" he begged Amanda, knowing she and Marc were the biggest gossips in the world.

"I swear on my red sling-back Jimmy Choos," she kissed his cheek and slowly let go of his hand as she walked out of his office, giving him one last flirtatious look.

Daniel smiled and shook his head as he watched Amanda leave.

But then he looked over and noticed Betty staring at him through the glass wall, a look of disappointment and hurt on her face. After catching his eyes, she immediately ran off. Daniel ran after her, calling her name.

"Betty – wait!" he pleaded.

She ran faster, but he finally caught up with her at the elevator. She frantically kept pressing the Close button, with no use. Daniel managed to pry the doors open and slip inside. She was stuck.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks everyone, for reading and for all the great responses! Here's the next chapter. :)_

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"I thought I made it clear that I don't need your pity!" Betty danced around Daniel, trying to get her finger on the next highest floor in order to escape.

She was shorter and smaller, so she could weave around him, but he was faster, slicker; and somehow managed to end up cornering her. She prayed someone would get on at the next floor – he'd have no choice but to let her go, unless he wanted to make a scene. His body was mere inches from hers.

"We need to talk about this," his blue eyes stared into hers as he slammed the Stop button.

She had to get out of that corner, otherwise she knew she'd lose all ability to think straight and end up surrendering to his will; teasing herself with something she couldn't have – not for real, anyway. She ducked under his arm and moved to the other side of the elevator.

"About what? I don't know what 'this' is," she threw her hands up.

"Us! _This! _This thing between us," he gestured his hand back and forth through the space between them.

"There is no 'us', Daniel. And whatever happened this morning was a mistake. We both know it," Betty tried to hide her true feelings.

Daniel tried to mask his disappointment and frustration. Why did she keep pushing him away? He knew she didn't mean it – he could see it in her beautiful chocolate eyes. Why did she have to see him with Amanda like that? He knew she had gotten the wrong impression. It was obvious she wasn't standing outside his office for nothing. She must've come there to talk to him, maybe even say she wanted to see where things went with them? Why did he always end up screwing things up?

He tried to do the right thing – by Betty and by Amanda. Couldn't she see that it was just an innocent hug and a peck on the cheek? Couldn't she tell by now how he felt about her? If he didn't care, he wouldn't have broken it off with Amanda. But he did – because he wanted _her_ – there was something about her that was lacking in all the other women he'd been with. She even made Amanda seem dull. He had to make her understand . . . give them a chance for something. He slowly inched toward her again.

"I don't believe that – and I don't think you do either," he said, his lips making their way towards hers.

For a moment, Betty almost lost all inhibition and leaned in to meet him halfway. But she resisted before making contact. She turned away and pushed the Stop button again, starting the elevator.

"You can't read my mind Daniel!" she angrily told him, even though he just had.

She hated how well he knew her.

"Well you can't just assume you know what _I'm_ thinking either!" Daniel fired back.

"From witnessing that – whatever it was - with Amanda, it's a little obvious where you really want to be," Betty says, perturbed.

"Betty –" Daniel began.

"No – you don't have to say anything. It's a good thing – going back to her. She's definitely more your speed. I'm happy you found someone," she feigned a smile.

"Don't do that," Daniel told her.

"Do what – be happy for you?" she was purposely obtuse.

"Lie to me. _Don't_ lie to me! It doesn't work – I can see right through it, always have . . ." he trailed off.

"Sorry if my counter-productiveness annoys you," she said, sarcastically.

"Would you just talk to me? Like normal?" he quietly pleaded, gently taking hold of her hands.

Betty stayed silent, still trying to maintain her anger. His touch and those puppy dog eyes were hard to resist though. She hated how he could simply stand there in the same space as she was and make her forget anything else but the desire to kiss his lips and run her fingers through his hair, feel his breath on her neck . . .

When did it get like that? For almost four years she had managed to pretty much stay immune to his blatant good looks and irresistible charm. Sure, there was a part of her that had been attracted to him since they met, but it was like being attracted to a celebrity – she couldn't help but notice and knew it was only skin-deep. It was never an issue. She had always cared about Daniel and even came to love him as a friend – more than that after a while.

She had seen a change in him over the years. He was more mature . . . didn't feel the need to sleep with a different woman every night, wanted to be a father to DJ, even seemed ready for a commitment when he married Molly. And when Molly died, it was like their connection with each other became deeper than ever before. Betty had never seen Daniel fall apart like that . . . be so vulnerable . . . cling to her as if she were his only lifeline.

She was closer to him than anyone else – even Hilda. She'd do anything for him and knew he would do anything for her. She knew the cult had screwed with his mind and that he was having a hard time moving on. But now it looked like he was back with Amanda . . . _and_ he was hitting on _her_ at the same time. After talking with her sister, she was almost positive she wanted to see where things with Daniel would lead - if he felt the same.

Only now, she had just caught him with Amanda and was pretty much convinced he had reverted back to being a man-whore. She wasn't about to get romantically involved in that kind of a mess. She'd been trapped in too many triangles - or almost triangles - before. How did a simple kiss between friends turn her life upside down? She gazed up into his eyes and despite her better judgment, she felt herself gravitating toward him; her hand reaching for his face, when the bell dinged and the doors opened.

"Coming through, people! Don't just stand there gawking at each other – move it or lose it - I've got a fashion emergency, here!" Marc barked, shoving his way through, breaking the connection.

Betty took it as an opportunity to high-tail it out of there . . . a sign that they were interrupted for a reason, that her intuition was right. She just hoped Marc was too self-involved to see what was written all over her face.

"Betty!" Daniel started to run after her again, but stopped himself.

He'd let her go – for now anyway. Give her time to cool off; time enough to listen to reason – but not too much time.

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"What's up with Curvy and Pasty? Is she still on his flat ass for not saving her the last raisin bagel this morning or something?" Marc asked Amanda, after he resolved his minor crisis.

"Daniel has a rockin' ass – believe me, I've 'smacked that' more than a few times . . . _Mmm!_" Amanda fondly recalled, correcting Marc.

"_Eww _. . . Fine. Whatever. That wasn't my point," he huffed. "There are some really strange vibes going on between What-Not-To-Wear and Dumber-Than-A-5th-Grader."

"W-What you mean? They still seem like total Besties to me – not at _all_ weird or complicated . . ." Amanda couldn't look at Marc, afraid she'd let Daniel's secret slip.

"I just saw them in the elevator, and our little Churro looked like she was either gonna kiss the Boss Boy or smack him again. I was sensing . . . _heterosexual tension_." Marc cringed, but was still intrigued by his findings.

"I think all those Botox injections have gone to your brain. And there's no way Betty would slap Daniel again – not after –" Amanda covered her mouth, catching herself.

"What? Not after what?" Marc's eyes lit up like crazy.

Amanda tried to escape from her desk, but Marc grabbed hold of her arm.

"Aww . . . come on, Mandy! Don't deprive me of my hourly gossip – I'll go into withdrawal . . ." he whined.

"_Maaarrc_ . . . I promised I wouldn't say anything!" she whined back.

"So you _do_ know something!" he gasped. Amanda panicked.

"Know what? Did you hear something? Hey, how about that Meagan chick? Did you know she gets her nails done at – a discount superstore?" she gasped, frantically tried to distract him.

"Not surprised, bet she gets half her wardrobe there too . . ." he scoffed. "Wait – that was last week's juice – _get back to the watermelon!_"

"What watermelon – is somebody preggers?" Amanda asked, semi-oblivious.

"No . . . Focus, Mandy-Tans. Focus! Betty -" he tried again.

"Betty's not a watermelon - sure, she's a _little_ on the pudgy side, but I wouldn't call her -" she started to comment.

Marc interrupted her with an extremely loud and irritated sigh.

"_Betty and Daniel are the watermelon!_ FYI, they're gigantic mouth-watering gossip! Now give me the juice, Woman!" Marc demanded.

"Orange or apple?" Amanda got up from her desk, heading for the cafeteria.

"Amanda Tanen Sommers if you don't tell me what in the name of Giorgio Armani is going on here, I swear I'll give that Louis Vuitton bag you wanted to one of those little minions! Someone who's never even _heard_ of the name before, much less knows how to accessorize properly. And you know editors outrank assistants during The Closet's cleaning seasons," he threatened.

Amanda gasped.

"You wouldn't _dare!_ You would, wouldn't you? . . . Ok – no wait – I – I can't – I promised – gorgeous bag or not," she sighed.

Marc looked defeated, until the wheels started spinning in his head.

"What if I guessed and you just gave me signals?" he suggested.

"Well, I guess technically it wouldn't be my fault if you figured it out on your own. It's not like I _said_ anything . . ." she contemplated. "But you have to promise me you'll keep quiet, and won't even _hint_ to anyone else about it - if you figure it out."

"Mmmhmmm . . ." he slyly grinned and nodded eagerly.

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A couple of weeks had passed and she was still avoiding him. They'd both shared stolen glances and a few brief pleasantries; had spoken professionally about deadlines and what was to be written for the following issue. But not all of her was really there. He couldn't bounce ideas off of her . . . listen to her thoughts for the issue . . . watch her jump up and down and squeal every time she got excited about a new lead or another hit on her blog . . .

He couldn't hear her infectious laugh . . . flirt with her just to see her get all flustered over nothing, her cheeks turning that certain shade of red, causing her to shove his chest in mocked protest . . . ask her about her day . . . have coffee or share a bagel with her . . . have lunch or eat takeout while watching a movie or having a late night at the office . . . just be alone in the same room with her for more than thirty seconds . . .

He was lost without her. He'd waited long enough – he needed to talk to her. He was about to explode from keeping everything inside. She had to know straight-out how he felt. At least then he'd know where they stood. He called the car service and went to her apartment, his heart pounding the entire time. He took a deep breath and knocked on her door, expecting to see her face, when instead he ended up seeing her father's.

"Mr. Suarez . . . Hi!" Daniel said.

"Daniel, what brings you here? Oh, sorry - sometimes I forget this isn't my home. Come in - I'll go get Betty," Ignacio greeted him, with his apron on.

Daniel smiled and entered her apartment to find books, papers, pots and pans, eggs, flour, curling irons, blow dryers, makeup, and piles of clothes everywhere. Justin and Hilda were in bathrobes, their faces covered in green goop, cucumbers over their eyes.

"Hey, Grandpa, who's at the door – you can't let them see me like this!" Justin protested.

"Hey, Justin – it's Daniel," he answered.

"Oh. Hi, Daniel! Thank god it's only you! Grandpa would've let Shakira in here and not have warned me first," Justin joked.

"I heard that!" Ignacio said.

Daniel chuckled. Hilda removed the cucumbers from her eyes.

"Hey, Daniel! Why don't you have a seat on the couch? It's sooo comfortable I could just fall asleep on it . . ." Hilda gave him a secretly satisfied look.

He had no doubt in his mind that Betty had told her everything. But he shouldn't have been surprised. She was Betty's female version of himself – when they were having problems or there was something woman-related, he knew she usually turned to her sister.

"Subtle," he smirked.

"I have no idea what you're talking about . . ." she claimed innocence and winked at him.

Betty walked into the room.

"Daniel! What are you doing here?" she feigned cheerfulness.

"I just thought I'd stop by and . . . chat," he quickly came up with an excuse.

"Well, why don't we '_chat'_ outside," she suggested, rolling her eyes at him.

She closed the door to her apartment and looked at him.

"Okay, that was lame," he admitted.

"You think?" she said sarcastically. "What are you really doing here, Daniel?"

"I had to see you, ok? Ever since the elevator you've been avoiding me - for weeks. I had to know you were alright," he explained, trying not to scare her off right away.

"Well, as you can see, I'm fine. And it's not like I don't show up for work . . ." she stated matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, but we don't really talk. I don't know what's been going on with you? I know we swore we'd never utter that word again, but your apartment looks like a tornado hit it!" he laughed.

"Yeah . . . well, that's because one did – twice - the Suarez Family tornado. As you can tell, my family's pretty comfortable in there right now," she said.

"What happened?" he asked.

She sighed.

"You know how Fashion Week I featured a new designer who presented the slightly charred look?" she asked.

"Yeah . . . Betty, those were brilliant! You did an awesome job finding her. I'm so sorry Wilhelmina took the credit for her," he told her.

"Thanks. Well that look was actually an accident. Hilda's salon caught on fire and the designer's pieces were in there," she explained.

"Oh my god! Betty, why didn't you tell me? You're okay? You're family's okay, right?" Daniel started freaking out.

"We're _fine._ We've _been_ fine – we're fine, Daniel. Thank you," she assured him. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I didn't want to worry you with something else. I could tell you were busy enough as it was and after you found out about Tyler, there was no way I was going to put my problems on you."

"Is that why you kept insisting we go to my apartment to hang out - until that last weekend when we . . .?" he asked, finally understanding.

Betty nodded.

"There were too many people at my place. Too many questions would've been asked about what was going on with you and I knew you didn't need that," she told him, remembering how upset he had been about his family.

"But that's why you saw them camped out in my apartment just now. They stayed with me while the house was being fumigated, and there was this complicated inspection thing and dealing with the insurance . . . They went home when it was up to code again, but now that we finally got approval from the insurance, construction's in process so they're back . . ." she trailed off.

"Do you know who started it?" he asked.

She slowly held up her hand.

"Guilty as charged," she admitted as she slumped down on the floor, her back against the wall.

"You?" he said in disbelief and joined her on the opposite wall.

She nodded.

"Yeah, I was using the curling iron, trying something different with my hair and I forgot to turn it off before I left," she admitted.

Daniel was finding it hard to imagine Betty using a curling iron; the first time he met her it seemed as if she barely even used a hair brush. Things had definitely changed.

"Wow. So you and your entire family are holed up in your tiny apartment . . . again?" he asked.

"Yep . . ." she said.

"Betty, let me help you out. I feel horrible! There you were listening to me whine and complain about Tyler and Mom, while you were having your own family crisis. Let me book them a suite – anything. You must be so stressed out – I heard about the Lady Gaga presentation mix-up and wondered what happened," he offered.

"That's really sweet of you, Daniel. But I can't accept. We just got the insurance to agree to pay for most of the damages, but they won't cover everything – there's no way we could afford to pay you back," she said.

"No, no. I didn't expect you to. It's on me – don't even worry about it! I care about your family and I care about you. That's never going to change, so you might as well get used to it," he insisted with a smile.

She hesitated for a minute and then caved. She loved her family, but living in such close quarters was driving her crazy. As much as she didn't want to accept any huge favors from Daniel, she could definitely use a break.

"Okay. Thank you," she smiled awkwardly. "So you never told me why you're really here. I know it wasn't just to see what I'd been up to."

He smiled sheepishly. He could never get anything past her.

"Don't run off when I bring it up, but I wanted to explain to you about what you saw between Amanda and me that day in my office," he began.

"Daniel, it's fine. I really don't care. I've had so much to deal with lately that thinking about whatever 'thing' you have with Amanda is the least of my problems – in fact it's non-existent," Betty smiled and lied.

The truth was that that entire day was still eating at her.

"I know you 'don't care', but just hear me out. What you saw in there wasn't what you think. I broke it off with Amanda. We had been casually seeing each other since the Bahamas – it was just for sex, really," he could see her temper silently building up.

Betty tried to contain her anger with both of them, especially since they were in the hallway. But her two friends didn't even have the decency to warn her about their fling? They had just gone behind her back.

Daniel told her _everything_ – certain things she sometimes wished she _didn't_ know - like that weird mole he had on his lower back or the copy room tape that left her blind for a week. So why did he keep this from her? And Amanda lived right across the hall – she could've walked in on them at any moment – _Ewww . . .!_ Not an image she wanted to keep in her mind for multiple reasons.

"But she and I realized we wanted more in a relationship . . . wanted to be with other people," he went on. "I'm sorry I never told you, but I just didn't think it was that big a deal – we were never serious – we were just using each other. And a few weeks before then, it had hit me that I was tired of going nowhere - of going backward, actually."

He looked at the floor, then back at her, then scooted in towards her and grabbed her hands.

"I wanted something that could last, someone who never ceased to amaze me, but at the same time who I knew practically better than she knew herself and vice versa . . . Someone who could always keep me on my toes, was always there when I needed her . . . wasn't afraid to crash a wedding reception, sing drunken off-key karaoke at 3 in the morning, or pig-out on well – anything . . . Someone who'd watch the same movies over and over again . . ." he timidly looked at her.

"I wanted someone who'd meet me at 5 in the morning just to see the sun rise on the other side of the city . . . Someone who was smart, funny, passionate, never afraid to speak her mind, had the biggest heart in the world, had amazing eyes and a smile that always lit up the room, who was beautiful inside and out . . . Someone who was . . . you - I want _you,"_ Daniel confessed and sat in the dead air, wishing she'd say something – anything. He'd even take another one of her slaps if it'd kill the suspense.


	4. Chapter 4

_Sorry not to have posted anything in a while! I was on vacation and didn't have a whole lot of time to spend on the computer. Thank you so much for reading and for your responses - they're greatly appreciated! Here's the next chapter and another addition will be coming soon. Enjoy! :)_

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Betty was flabbergasted. She knew this talk would come eventually - that she kept postponing the inevitable. But never did she imagine such a heartfelt confession to come out of his mouth . . . for him to be so vulnerable – about _her_. She was floored. She wasn't even sure if she was ready for this, now that it actually might be happening. The whole moment was so surreal . . . as if she were watching someone else's life, some movie.

"Daniel, I – I don't know what to say. Are you sure? Are you serious?" she needed to know it wasn't all in her head.

"Yes, I've never been more sure or serious in my life," he affirmed.

Daniel hoped Betty wasn't about to laugh in his face or run away again. He searched for the right words to make her understand how much he wanted this - how much he wanted her.

"I want to be with you. I don't know how we got here or where it'll lead, but I'm ready to find out. We can take it at whatever speed you want. The last thing I want to do is pressure you," he told her.

She looked down at their joined hands and was about to speak when she heard the door open.

"Hey, you two . . . Sorry to interrupt, but Papi can't find your mixer – he was gonna make sopapillas," Hilda peeped her head through the door.

"It's in the bottom cabinet next to the fridge under the – never mind . . ." Betty gave Daniel an apologetic look.

Daniel got up, then helped her up. While Betty went in to find it, Hilda purposefully stayed behind.

"How's it going? You and my baby sister seemed _pretty_ comfy . . ." she fished, but Daniel refused to take the bait.

He liked Hilda, but he knew she tended to be extremely nosy. There was no way in hell he was going to expose the most intimate details of her sister's and his imminent relationship – even though he had an inkling Betty would probably tell her later anyway.

"How's Justin doing at playing basketball? I could set up some more time to work with him, if he wants. Bobby plays, doesn't he?" he evaded Hilda's questions.

"Okay . . . I can take a hint," she smiled, noticing Betty had appeared in the doorway.

"I'll let you guys get back to your . . . discussion," Hilda snickered as Betty shoved her back into the apartment and slammed the door behind her.

"Sorry about that. My sister may be older than I am, but she acts like a 5 year-old sometimes," Betty apologized and rolled her eyes. Daniel smiled.

"So," he nervously shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Soo . . . back to the elephant in the room . . ." Betty looked at the ground, then back at him.

She was still uncertain of what to say. She wanted to be with him, but there were so many reasons why she shouldn't. Unable to give him a solid answer, she slowly began to voice her doubts.

" . . . What happens if it doesn't work out - where will we be then? I can't lose you – you're my best friend. I can't imagine not ever talking to you again . . . but I also can't see us going back either – it'd be too hard, too awkward. Should we really be doing this?" Betty looked at him unsure.

Daniel attempted to answer when she started frantically spouting out more concerns.

"And what about MODE? I don't want everyone to start calling me 'Daniel's Girl' again, and act like every little article or promotion I get is because I'm dating the boss. It was bad enough last fall, after you slugged Matt and made the big scene. Not that I didn't love you for it - but I just got people to start respecting me again - promise you won't give me any special treatment! . . . And then there's Wilhelmina . . . and your mom . . . and – and –" Betty continued to ramble.

"So is that a 'yes'?" Daniel hopefully asked, amused by her moment of freaking out.

". . . Yes," she smiled, hesitantly.

He grinned and happily covered her lips with his in a sweet, tender kiss. Slowly parting, he rested his forehead against hers, relieved.

"You know, I kinda like the sound of 'Daniel's Girl' – it has a sexy ring to it . . ." he teased.

"Daniel . . ." Betty blushed and placed her hand on his chest.

He held onto it with his own and became serious again.

"It feels so good to be this close, knowing you won't shove me away or slap me. _Why_ did you do that, again?" he asked, half-teasing.

"I'm so sorry! I was afraid – of you . . . of us . . . that everything I was feeling was real . . . that you might not feel the same . . . or even that you actually might. I overheard you telling Wilhelmina that you didn't feel anything for me and then you barged into the bathroom and acted like you did. I thought you were just feeling sorry for me . . . humoring me because I was your friend. And I couldn't believe you wouldn't just tell me what you had told Wilhelmina . . . I feel horrible . . ." she explained.

"It's okay – I get it. You thought I was lying to you – or at least not telling you the whole truth – and we promised never to do that to each other. But I meant what I said – any guy would be lucky to be with you. I'm just glad you're letting me have that chance," he assured her.

Betty smiled, coyly.

"You just seem so confident - isn't there a part of you that's freaking out a little?" she asked.

"Look, I'm not saying I'm not scared, too – because I am. Believe me, after you kicked me out that morning I spent the whole time trying to wrap my head around everything. But I guess I realized that a part of me has always felt something for you. Those feelings just kinda grew over the years to the point where I felt it'd be stupid not to find out where they could lead. I know we're risking a lot here and I don't want to lose you as a friend, either – you're all I've got, really," he admitted, embarrassed.

Her heart melted even more, knowing how hard it was to find true friends.

"But I guess I feel what we've got to gain is worth it – we could have it all . . . Work might be a problem for a while and I promise I'll be a real hard-ass if you want me to. But like I've told you before, it's not how you get the job - it's what you do with it that counts. And I have never given you anything I didn't think you could handle. Plus, if you think about it, MODE and Meade were built on nepotism . . ."

Betty gave him another look.

"But if you want to keep this quiet for a little while, maybe gradually show signs we're together, that's ok - whatever makes you comfortable," Daniel assured her.

"I think that might be best – the subtler it is, the more likely everyone is to not even make a big deal out of it," Betty agreed.

"Okay . . . So are we telling our families?" he asked.

"I think we probably should – besides, Hilda won't stop nagging me about you," she laughed.

"Yeah, I could tell from the comment she made to me about the couch, and then out here in the hallway, that she's been dying to say something more," he chuckled.

"Come on, for putting up with that, you can help me kick her out of my apartment," Betty joked and grabbed his hand.

Daniel laughed and followed her inside.

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The next few weeks were perfect, at least in Daniel's eyes. Betty's family moved into the hotel suite Daniel had offered to pay for and it was actually beneficial for everyone. They all had more space, Betty was a lot less stressed, and it ended up giving him more time with her without her worrying about getting home at a decent hour to play hostess.

He finally had her back - all of her – without any awkwardness or tension. His best friend, who told him he needed to finally shut up and quit being a baby about Tyler - that he needed to bond with him. The one who didn't care if he wore Gucci or an off-brand . . . who would call him an Oompa Loompa because of his ridiculous Cheeto tan or laugh at his fetish for high-fives . . . who would sacrifice half of her cookie dough ice cream when he was having a bad day . . .

Except now he had the added bonus of being able to kiss or touch her whenever he wanted . . . curl up with her on the couch, knowing she wouldn't freak out if they fell asleep. They were learning more and more about each other and growing closer, more comfortable with their romantic relationship. It was new, fun, and easier than any other serious relationship he'd had, because they basically knew each other's dirty secrets and real selves. There weren't any fronts – they were just them: flaws and all.

"You're not brooding about Tyler again, are you?" Betty asked as she came up behind Daniel and kissed his cheek, while wrapping her arms around his waist.

Before he could speak, she started in on another pep-talk.

"You need to let it go. It really wasn't his fault you didn't know he existed. And really, when you think about it, he got three times the shock you did – you, Alexis, and Matt. Talk to him – you guys might have more in common than you think. And talk to your mother – for real this time – not just to announce we're together and then walk out of her office. You know what? We're having a family dinner when we get back from London – then you'll _have_ to talk," she finally stopped rambling.

Daniel turned his head from the window of Betty's apartment and briefly kissed her lips.

"Actually, I already talked to him and we agreed to go bowling sometime next week and grab a couple of beers afterward. My mother's another story . . ." he trailed off.

"Daniel . . . never mind. I get it - you need more time. She was wrong to have kept something like that from you, but she's still your mother and she loves you. Just promise me you won't wait too long to talk to her. You've already lost your father, and I know if I had the chance to talk to my mother again – even if she did something like that – I'd still jump at the opportunity to make it right . . ." she said, swallowing back her tears.

"We can take the people we care about for granted, because we just assume they'll always be around. But you could lose them in a second and never have the chance to say to them what you always wanted to say; know you'll never get to share the most important moments in your life with them," she advised.

"For you, I promise I will attempt to make amends with my mother," he assured her, kissing her temple.

"Thank you," she squeezed her arms a little tighter around him.

"But really, you didn't need to give me another speech to make me feel better," Daniel told her.

"So you just let me go on and on for nothing?" Betty asked, annoyed.

"Well, it was pretty much impossible to stop you once you got going," he pointed out.

Betty reluctantly agreed.

"So what _were_ you thinking about?" she inquired.

"I was just thinking about us," he answered.

"Oh? And . . .?" she asked.

"And what?" he looked back at her.

"What were you thinking?" she wondered.

"That if we don't clean up this place soon, you're gonna have a few new roommates – and I have a feeling they won't be as pleasant as I would be," he teased, looking around at the pile of Chinese cartons and pizza boxes scattered everywhere.

"Daniel . . . seriously. I know it had to be more than that. You had that rare pensive look you hardly ever get," she rested her chin on his shoulder. He sighed contently.

"It was nothing – just that I'm glad we got past everything and are back to being us again . . . only better," he replied.

"Better, huh?" she smiled.

"Yeah," he coyly said.

"And what exactly makes us 'better'?" Betty mischievously inquired.

Daniel turned around to face her, Betty's arms still encircling his waist.

"Well there's this . . ." he seductively kissed her lips.

"And this . . ." he worked his way down her neck and along her shoulder. "And this . . ."

He leaned in to kiss her again, but started tickling her instead, causing them both to fall to the floor, rolling over with laughter.

"Hey – you cheated!" Betty exclaimed while lying on top of Daniel, finally able to breathe normally again.

"How did I cheat? I didn't know this was a contest," he intentionally played dumb.

Betty sighed and lightly smacked his shoulder. "You cheated me out of a kiss," she answered, only half annoyed.

"Really? Well it seems I've got some making up to do, don't I?" Daniel grinned playfully and rolled on top of her.

"Mmm-hmm . . ." Betty smiled.

Daniel leaned down and teased Betty with his lips, sucking on her bottom lip, then pulling away.

He deviously contemplated his next move until Betty made it for him, pulling him back down, causing their lips to crash into each other's.

"You're impossible," she smiled, breaking away.

He chuckled.

"Hey, you knew exactly what you were getting into . . ." he joked, kissing the tip of her nose.

"True. I guess I can live with it . . ." she teased.

"Really? Well you're no picnic yourself, you know?" he began tickling her again.

Betty giggled and unsuccessfully tried to escape from under Daniel.

"I don't think so," he laughed, capturing her wrists above her head.

"Let me go!" she giggled in protest, then caught the serious look that suddenly ran over his face.

"Never . . ." he softly said, staring intently at her.

"Promise?" she smiled timidly.

Daniel tenderly kissed Betty's forehead then slowly rested his forehead against hers.

"Promise," he vowed and slowly rolled off of her.

Unaware of the greasy half-eaten pizza in the open box behind him, he jumped up, feeling the sauce seep into the back of his shirt. Betty giggled.

"You think that's funny, do you?" he gave her a mischievous look. "We'll see how _you_ like it . . ."

Daniel picked Betty up and threatened to throw her into it.

"No! Don't you dare! Put me down!" she squealed in protest.

"Ok . . ." he flipped her upside down and held her even closer to the mess, acting like he was going to drop her in it, head-first.

"Okay, okay – I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" she apologized.

He put her on her feet.

"Now . . . back to cleaning up this crap . . . You know I'm not a neat freak, but it looks worse than when your family was here," he pointed out, smiling as he watched her try to regain her composure.

"Yeah . . . well you're a pretty big distraction, Mister," she teased.

He gave her a skeptical look.

"Fine. But first . . . take off your shirt," Betty commanded.

"I'll take off mine if you take off yours . . ." he gave her a wickedly sexy grin as he pulled up the bottom of her shirt.

"Down, boy!" she playfully smacked his hands away. "I meant you've got day-old pizza all over you and need a new one."

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. Daniel took off his ruined t-shirt and tossed it to her. She caught herself staring at his chiseled chest long enough for him to notice.

"Are you sure that's the only reason you asked me to strip for you?" he asked, messing with her.

Frustrated with herself, she made a dig at him to cover.

"Men – all they can think about is getting a piece of ass," she muttered as she absently bent over to pick up the pizza box before she went to find him a clean shirt.

Daniel leisurely gazed at her backside.

"But it's such a _nice_ ass . . ." he smiled devilishly, defending himself.

"Shut up," Betty playfully warned, trying to hide a smile as she walked out of the room.

Daniel shook his head, knowing he had flustered her and loving every minute of it.


	5. Chapter 5

_Thank you so much for reading and for your comments - I'm glad you guys liked Detty's playful scenes! Here's the next chapter - with a touch of smut. ;)_

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Life at MODE was more challenging. It was kind of satisfying, knowing they had this juicy secret that no one knew about. But at the same time, it was difficult to keep it to themselves. However, they tried to enjoy their subtle hints until everyone finally got the picture. Betty would allow her hands to linger on Daniel's chest when straightening his tie before an important meeting. Daniel would let his arm casually slide lower around Betty when they walked together; from her shoulder down to her waist.

They'd flirt more often, stare more often, conjure up more excuses to pop into each other's offices, and work dangerously close to one another on certain assignments. It was hard to resist the heat, knowing they couldn't even give each other a quick peck on the cheek or lips without it all coming out and blowing up in their faces.

And after a certain amount of time had gone by, they couldn't understand why there wasn't any buzz going on about them at all. While Betty was at the orthodontist getting her braces removed, Daniel decided to ask Amanda.

"You guys have always been touchy-feely with each other, you've exchanged erotic vibes off and on for at least the past year and you were still stuck to each other's hips even after she was over being your assistant. So everyone guesses you're already secretly a couple or that's just the way you guys are. I don't think anyone would be shocked if you jumped her right in the middle of a meeting," Amanda blithely stated.

Daniel looked at her in disbelief. Was he that obvious? Were they both that obvious? Everyone already had it figured out before they did?

"Ugh, enough with the stun gun act! Come on, Daniel. Everyone here is pretty perceptive – including me. How else do you think we manage to get our gossip fixes? But don't worry about what other people think – if you guys like each other, show it. Sneaking around is kinky and a great anaphylactic for a while but it's never all that it's sexed up to be. Your tasty Empanada Empress is gonna get tired of hiding pretty soon," she advised him. Daniel nodded.

"Thanks, Amanda!" he smiled and headed back to his office.

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"What's with the shades?" Betty asked as she entered Daniel's office.

"I took a little nap after lunch," he replied.

"Oh. Well? What do you think?" Betty asked, showing off her metal-free smile.

"About what?" he acted oblivious.

"_No braces!_ And don't tell me you forgot. 'Cause if you did, that was a pretty cruel joke sneaking that bag of mini Snickers and Milky-Ways into my purse this morning," she added.

"Okay, you got me. Come here – let me get a closer view," Daniel said.

Betty moved towards him and he carefully studied her.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, self-consciously.

"Let's see . . . they're all there . . . all straight . . . nice and white . . . one last test . . ." he teased and sweetly kissed her.

"Yep. Still kissable," he grinned.

"Daniel . . ." she blushed.

"No - seriously, Betty, you look gorgeous!" he hugged her, amazed that she could possibly look even more beautiful than she was before. But she did.

"I'm really happy for you - I know how long you've waited to get them off. How does it feel?" he asked.

"A little weird, but good weird. I can't wait to eat all the great food I've been missing out on!" she answered.

"I know you have that celebration at your family's house tonight, now that the construction's finally done. But I have a little surprise to tide you over," Daniel said as he pulled out a caramel apple with nuts.

"Ooh! You're so good to me!" Betty squealed as she tried to grab it out of his hand.

He pulled it away.

"Not so fast. We need to talk first," he sighed.

She pouted.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, concerned.

"No – well, yes – I don't know. I just heard from Amanda that everyone pretty much already knows about us – assumed we had something going on for a year or so, now. She said no one's talking about our little signals because they think it's pretty much old news, if the rumors are true," he replied.

"Wow," Betty said, shocked.

"Yeah . . . I think we should just be open about it. I don't want to hide anymore – it's not fair to either of us. I want everyone to know you're mine," he confessed, lifting her chin up.

She smiled and then thought about his reasoning.

"I guess since everybody already thinks it, there's no point in denying it any longer. But we agreed to no special treatment – right?" she asked.

"Business as usual. You do realize we're going to have to tell Wilhelmina during our meeting with her and Marc?" he reminded her.

"I think I need my caramel apple, now . . ." Betty cringed.

Daniel laughed and handed it to her. She took a bite.

"Mmmm . . . I feel better now. Want some?" she offered.

He took a bite and handed it back.

"You've got a little bit of caramel – right there . . ." Daniel smiled and pointed to her cheek. "Here?" Betty asked, trying to wipe it off but missing it.

"No – here . . ." Daniel moved forward and kissed it off of her.

He then kissed her lips, sliding his tongue into her now brace-less mouth. Betty dropped her apple as she fell into the moment, but soon broke away.

"Daniel – we can't! We're at work! And – and what about our meeting? What if . . . mmmm . . . what if someone walks in on us?" she protested in between kisses.

"We've got 20 minutes and the shades are drawn," Daniel assured her.

"What about the door?" Betty asked.

Without breaking their connection he walked her over to the door and fumbled with the lock.

"Do you really want our first time to be in your cold . . . mmmm . . . uncomfortable . . . mmmm . . . office?" Betty half-heartedly objected as Daniel slammed her against the wall.

"Mmmm . . . only if you care," he replied breathlessly, nibbling on her ear.

She hesitated. Betty never thought she'd be doing something so daring . . . so sleazy . . . soo . . . forget it. Once in a lifetime wouldn't kill her – especially when it felt soo right.

Grabbing his tie, she pulled him into her, colliding her lips with his, running her hands through his hair. She began unbuttoning his shirt, allowing her hands to gravitate down his muscular chest and over his firm ass. His lips traveled from her mouth to her neck, landing around her cleavage, as his hand inched down her thigh to bottom of her dress.

"What in the _hell_ is going on here? I certainly hope this wasn't the important meeting I was asked to attend!" Wilhelmina exclaimed after barging through the door with Marc right behind her.

"Wilhelmina?" Daniel and Betty both turned around, straightening their clothes.

"Really, Daniel, still sleeping with your employees? Obviously you've failed to grasp the meaning of proper work ethics – or learned how to lock your door, for that matter," Wilhelmina snapped.

"The door was closed and the shades were drawn. Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" Daniel retorted.

"Well, of course. But seeing as though you were so thoroughly engaged, you couldn't possibly have heard me. So I decided I had every right to come in, since I was supposed to be a part of your so-called meeting. Do me a favor and don't bring me in on your pathetic attempts to have a booty call during office hours, simply because you can't keep it in your pants 'til the end of the day," she countered. "And honestly, Betty, while you're certainly somewhat lacking in appearance, I still believed you were more intelligent than this."

"Don't you _ever_ talk to her like that!" Daniel warned.

She ignored him and headed towards the door.

"By the way, Betty, I wouldn't expect to get a raise out of him anytime soon . . ." Wilhelmina added, lifting an eyebrow.

Betty looked at her in disgust, realizing the double meaning.

"Wilhelmina, with all due respect, I don't think you have any right to berate Daniel or me, considering Marc once had to cover an entire meeting with an important client because you were pre-occupied with your own extra-curricular activities," Betty pointed out.

Wilhelmina shot daggers at Marc.

"Willie, I swear I don't know _where _she got that from!" Marc nervously laughed, frantically trying to cover. "She must've had one too many Mojitos –"

"Save it, Marc – I'll deal with you later . . ." Wilhelmina barked.

Betty proceeded.

"I agree, what we did was unprofessional and I don't intend for it to happen again. But I also don't think you have any right to act superior, considering your own indiscretions," she told her.

Wilhelmina, taken aback by Betty's boldness, reluctantly backed down.

"Point taken . . . Just don't let me catch you again – or I _will_ have to disclose your behavior to Mother Meade," Wilhelmina threatened and slammed the door.

Marc mouthed 'Sorry' as he left.

"That _bitch!_" Daniel shouted as he paced across the floor, enraged. "She tried to marry my father and even produce an heir with him after he was dead just to get a piece of the company and she has the audacity to call _you_ a gold-digger? What a bunch of _bullsh_ –"

"_Daniel!_ You told me you locked the door!" Betty interrupted, too pre-occupied with her own thoughts to really pay attention to his rant.

"And I did – well . . . at least I _thought_ I did. Are you supposed to turn it to the right or to the left . . .?" Daniel pondered.

"Oh my god!" she shook her head and rolled her eyes in exasperation. "I told you we shouldn't have been doing this! I told you we were going to get caught! But nooooo . . . You were all '_Betty, we've got 20 minutes. Betty, we've got shades. Betty, we'll lock the door._' _Now what are we going to do?_"

"Get a new clock?" he joked, pointing at the one on the wall that was off.

"_Daniel!" _Betty scolded.

"I don't – believe me, I'm just as pissed as you are. I was just trying to lighten the mood up a little. Did you see the way Willie's eyes popped out of her head when she saw us?" he smiled.

Betty nodded.

"It was pretty priceless," she agreed, smiling weakly. "But that doesn't take away from how screwed we are!"

She knew she shouldn't have even thought about doing something like this. She knew they'd get caught. Every single time she dared to break the rules she was busted. Hilda had always convinced her to pull some crazy scheme with her and Papi never failed to catch her. Even when she had snuck out of the house to be with Henry, she got called on it. And apparently she still hadn't gotten the picture that she was horrible at being sneaky and would always end up suffering the consequences of her misjudgments.

Daniel felt horrible. He shouldn't have talked Betty into it. He had pushed her too much and now they were in deep. He knew she wasn't used to doing something so crazy and risky – it wasn't her style. He couldn't help it though. He took one look at her incredibly sexy new smile, how happy she was just eating a simple caramel apple, and lost all ability to think straight.

And when she got some on her cheek all he could think about was licking it off and devouring her right then and there. He shook his head to focus. He needed to come up with some sort of solution to the problem he'd caused.

"I was thinking . . . maybe you should go without me to London's Fashion Week. I'm sure everyone officially knows by now that we're together, so if we both went they'd make out like we took a romantic vacation on company money. If you go by yourself, it would give everyone enough time and space to see nothing's changed as far as our work relationship is concerned. Take Amanda with you – she can be your assistant," Daniel suggested.

"That's true. It's not a bad idea. I did have a couple of places I wanted us to see on what little down time we'd have there, but I guess we could always go there another time . . . Oh my god – I just thought of something! Hilda's been bugging me about having an unforgettable bachelorette party. This would be perfect!" she gushed. "I'll just pay for her ticket and hotel expenses. Ooh – and I'll call Christina to see if she wants to meet up with us. Maybe she could hang out with Hilda while Amanda and I are working."

"Great! And since I'm now free, I guess I can make it to Bobby's bachelor party after all," he said with a devilish grin.

"_You_ . . . behave yourself! I don't want to come home from London to find some stripper's thong in your jacket pocket or something worse," she warned as she wrapped her arms around his neck and teased him with a seductive kiss.

They both smiled.

"I will, but _you're_ the one who's going to be in a foreign country. Don't go falling for some random British guy," he joked.

"I won't," she promised. "Oh – I'd better go make the arrangements and then get back to work. We've been in here alone for way too long."

She headed over to open up the shades.

"Did you get the Bra-tinerary for tomorrow's shoot?" Betty wondered, knowing Daniel had been waiting for it that morning.

"Not yet, but Ava called and said she was going to fax it to me within the hour. You know, I bet I could come up with one of our own . . ." he answered.

Taking her hand off the pull on the curtains, she turned around and furrowed her brows.

"Daniel, what good would that do? We have to follow their schedule or they won't – _Daniel! Don't_ give me that look . . .!" she said, knowing full well what his intentions were.

"Arrival time, tonight - 9:00PM, my place. Cleared for take-off - 9:15PM. Official departure - 9:20PM . . ." he seductively whispered in her ear as he came behind her, fingering one of her straps. Betty felt her breath catch in her throat, but fought off his advances.

"You're incorrigible - haven't you had enough action for one day? Forget it – I already know the answer to _that_ one. You need to get a hobby," she replied as she turned around to face him, rolling her eyes.

Daniel's eyes sparkled.

"I have a hobby . . ." he smiled.

"Really? What?" she asked skeptically, crossing her arms.

"She's standing right in front of me . . ." he grinned.

"_Daniel_ . . ." Betty protested.

"What? My hobby is getting to know you," he feigned innocence.

"You already know me," she replied.

"Not _all_ of you, baby . . ." he pulled her into him.

She blushed. It was the first time he had called her by anything other than her name, besides 'Tornado Girl' or 'Dora the Explorer'. And the way he said it just now made her feel the complete opposite of its meaning. He made her feel so . . . sexy . . . wanted . . . to the point where she didn't feel awkward about it, but at the same time, she knew she was cared for – not just one of Daniel's day-of-the-week girls.

She felt something she'd never felt with anyone – even Matt, who was almost as experienced as Daniel in that department. He was more concerned about not pressuring her; overly sweet because of his past. Sure, he had an entire gallery's worth of paintings of her – some of them showing a lot more than she wished to have shown to the public eye. Honestly, she felt more exposed and uncomfortable by them than anything else. But Daniel was . . .

"Hey . . . are you okay? Did I say something wrong? You kinda blanked out on me for a minute," Daniel snapped her back to reality. She shook her head.

"Say it again," she requested.

"What? . . . Are you okay?" he said, confused.

"No . . . before that," she replied.

He tried to figure out what else he had said.

"Baby?" he guessed.

She smiled and nodded. He gave her a strange look.

". . . I know - it's crazy. Everyone starts calling their significant other something during their relationship. But it just felt different this time," she said, embarrassed.

"Good different? Bad different?" he asked, sitting on the chaise and pulling her onto his lap.

"Good different. Obviously I've been called things before, but this felt natural . . . not superficial or corny . . . and . . . Forget it – I'm making too big of a deal out of it . . ." she tried to dismiss her feelings.

"No – you're not. It just came out of me - I didn't even think about it. But I meant it. You're my girl – my sexy, sweet, smart, spitfire of a woman," he assured her, holding her tight.

She smiled shyly.

"So . . . about my proposition . . ." he reminded her.

"It sounds tempting . . . but . . ." she hesitated.

"But what?" he asked.

"Don't get me wrong – today was . . . _Wow!_ . . . And I felt this incredible rush . . . and I want to be with you . . . but could we wait 'til after Hilda's wedding? She's been pulling me in so many different directions at once, and now I have to cover Fashion Week alone and plan excursions for her bachelorette party . . . I just don't want there to be any distractions," she asked, hoping he wouldn't be upset with her.

"I get it. I can't say I'm not disappointed . . . but I want it to be the right time for both of us, because I've never felt this way about anyone else," Daniel confessed.

"Me neither . . ." she smiled. "Could I still come over – just to hang out – not . . . you know . . .?"

"Of course you can, baby," he assured her.

"Good," she said, relieved that he truly wasn't upset with her.

". . . But I can't promise you we won't end up sleeping together . . ." he said as the corners of his mouth twitched.

"_Daniel!_" Betty's eyes widened and she jabbed him in the ribs.

"Ow! _Relax_ – I meant literally, not figuratively. You know our little habit of falling asleep during movies . . . _Damn_ – I'm gonna have to start wearing some sort of body armor . . ." he joked, rubbing his side.

"Yeah, well that's what you get for messing with a Queens girl," she playfully warned.

They were both silent for a moment.

"Are we okay?" Betty tentatively looked up at Daniel.

"Yeah," he said, smiling as he pressed his forehead against hers. "Now get back to work."

"Oh my god – we've been in here for over an hour! I'll talk to you later, okay?" she realized, jumping up.

"K . . . baby," he winked.

Betty smiled and walked out of his office. Things were definitely going to get complicated.


	6. Chapter 6

_Hey, everyone! I'm finally back with some new chapters! Thanks to all who read and comment - it's really appreciated! :)_

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Betty knocked on the door to Daniel's apartment. She wasn't sure why she was so apprehensive about coming over. He had assured her earlier that he wouldn't try anything and was willing to wait as long as she needed. But she was still nervous and felt like a tease. If Wilhelmina and Marc hadn't walked in on them, they would have already crossed that line. In the heat of the moment, she had no doubt that she had wanted him. She still did - but once it happened, there was no going back.

What if she didn't measure-up to the rest of Daniel's women? It'd never occurred to her until now, because Daniel had always treated her like the sexiest woman on earth. But what if he didn't feel like she was afterward? Not even mentioning track records, she wasn't a Size 0 like the other girls – far from it. But she knew he knew that and surprisingly didn't seem to care. However, while she was able to look alright in most of her new form-fitting clothes, being naked was a whole other story . . .

Clothes hid most of the flab, cellulite and other imperfections. Take those away, put her in a spotlight and she was screwed. She had never been able to pull off a bikini in her life. But as long as they were in the dark, that part wouldn't matter, right? _Oh, god!_ What if this ruined everything? She hadn't felt happier in her life than when she was with him.

What if this was the beginning of the end for them? She was ready to run in the other direction when Daniel opened the door.

"Hey . . ." he smiled that gorgeous smile of his, the one that made her melt every time.

"Hey," she smiled back.

Too late to bail out now. Besides, tonight was safe – she had until after the wedding to stop stalling and smack some sense and self-confidence into herself, right?

"So, how was your party?" Daniel asked as Betty walked in his dimly lit apartment to find candles and rose petals everywhere, soft music playing in the background, and a blanket and picnic basket on the floor.

"What's this?" Betty asked, trying to mask her fear with feigned enthusiasm and intrigue. So much for waiting . . .

"Don't freak out – " Daniel began. _Damn._ She could never get anything past him.

"This isn't what it looks like – I mean, it's exactly what it looks like, but nothing more than that," he tried to explain. "It's just my pathetic, inexperienced attempt to be romantic . . . I know you've been stressed out dealing with Hilda's wedding and then today's incident at work and I sprung Fashion Week on you . . . I just wanted to give you a chance to relax."

"Daniel," she smiled.

She couldn't believe how sweet he was . . . so anxious about not offending her . . . so worried about impressing her.

He awkwardly cleared his throat.

"So, I drew you a bubble bath in the spa tub – don't worry - it's only for you. A robe and some PJs are there for you to change into afterwards. And once you're done, I've got some wine, cheese, chocolate covered strawberries, caramel popcorn, and one of your favorite movies we can curl up to – if you want?" he nervously finished.

She nodded and slowly hugged him. She was speechless. He had thought of everything. Little things like this made her question why she'd ever doubt crossing the 'dreaded' line with Daniel. If he cared this much about romancing her, with no strings attached – even endearingly nervous about getting everything perfect – she should have nothing to worry about, right?

Regardless, she needed to enjoy it while she could and worry about the other when it actually happened. She only had this night before she had another full day of work and then had to pack and leave for London afterward . . . for an entire week without him.

"Thank you," she managed to get out as she broke their embrace.

"Anything for you, baby," he said, kissing her cheek and gently shoving her towards the bathroom.

While Betty was taking her bath, Daniel waited, wondering if he had done too much. He wanted to reassure her that she was worth waiting for - that he truly did want more with her than just sex. But the whole romance thing was new to him. He was still learning. With Sofia, he basically knew nothing . . . with Molly, he didn't really have enough time with her to get it perfected – even their wedding ended up being Betty's creation.

Betty. She had unselfishly offered her thought-to-be-doomed YETI project venue she had worked so hard on, to him and Molly. She was such a hopeless romantic and such a good friend. He remembered dancing with her and telling her she was right about perfect not always looking like you'd imagine. He wondered if she had caught onto the implication that he was talking about her - because she really was unexpected perfection.

Even then, he had felt something special for her. Maybe it wasn't romantic, but it went beyond friendship. She literally slammed into his life all those years ago and he never fathomed she'd be exactly what he needed, but she was. And in the months to come she was his greatest strength . . . holding him when he couldn't stop crying . . . distracting him when he couldn't sleep . . . staying with him when he couldn't make it through the nights alone . . . bailing him out before he almost got arrested . . .

She stopped him from breaking everything in sight . . . got him out of that ridiculous cult . . . helped him sort through Molly's things. She even helped him repaint the apartment and went with him to pick out new furniture, when he was ready to move on. Even all those times he tried to push her away she refused to leave his side. _God_ she had been amazing – and she still was . . .

"Hey, Daniel?" Betty called. "Yeah?" he shook himself out of his thoughts. "Could you come in here for a minute?" she asked. "Sure. What is it?" he wondered as he headed for the bathroom. "I can't reach the towels," she answered as he came in, covering his eyes with his hand. "Babe, you don't have to do that – I'm covered by the bubbles in all the important spots," she assured him, amused that Daniel Meade of all people wasn't trying to look. "Oh. Ok," he uncovered his eyes and grabbed a towel.

As he turned to hand it to her, he briefly glimpsed at her figure in the tub – her shapely legs propped up on the edge . . . bubbles precisely covering the rest of her body, stopping just above her breasts . . . her arms casually resting on the sides of the tub . . . her hair messily pinned up in a bun . . . her glasses off . . . What he wouldn't give to – "Daniel?" Betty looked at him expectantly. "Here," Daniel quickly handed her the towel and turned back around.

"Thanks," Betty said, standing up and wrapping the oversized towel around herself. "You can turn back around, now," she informed him, smiling awkwardly as she attempted to step out of the water. Daniel turned around just as Betty slid on the tile, knocking him backwards, falling directly on top of him. "Oops! You know, you really should keep some sort of mat or at least an extra towel to step onto," she giggled. "Well who knows, maybe I meant for this to happen so I could rescue you in my arms?" he teased.

"_My shady_ _hero . . .!_" she fake-swooned. "For that, you are rewarded a kiss for being a good – but naughty - boy . . ." she laughed, sweetly touching her lips to his. He graciously reciprocated, inhaling the fresh scent of vanilla on her skin. He ran his hands over her soft shoulders and back, beginning to push the top of the towel lower in order to explore more of her with his touch, before pulling away. "Betty, no offense, but you've gotta get off me," he told her.

"Huh?" she was lost, not even paying attention to anything but the taste of his tongue . . . the way his hands felt as he caressed her back. "Unless you want me to rip that towel off of you and take you right now, just do it!" he warned. She honestly pondered the proposition – she kind of wondered what that scenario would be like . . .

"Betty?" Daniel snapped her out of her fantasy, a look of urgency on his face. "Oh! Okay – right! Sorry!" she quickly scrambled off of him and he helped her up. Her hand, resting on his chest for support, still lingered around his open collar. She started to move in for another kiss, but restrained herself. "Umm . . . I should get dressed . . ." she suggested, her loosened towel slowly slipping down. She quickly pulled it back up as he tried not to stare.

"Um, yeah . . . I'm gonna go out there and set up the movie and the food," he nervously said, rubbing the back of his neck as he headed for the door. Betty sighed in frustration. She reached for the robe he had bought her. It was extremely soft, red terrycloth; form fitting - much nicer than her blue one she'd had for so many years that holes were wearing in it. She put it on and opened the bag on the counter to find a black cami with lace on the top, and white, red, and black plaid, light cotton PJ bottoms.

She looked inside again and found two other rather slinky, scented, garments – edible underwear? What the hell? "Daniel . . .!" she shouted. "What? What is it? Did you fall again?" he rushed into the bathroom in a panic. "You wanna explain to me what these are?" she asked, only half-annoyed. "Edible underwear? _Damn it!_ I specifically told her nothing kinky! Remind me tomorrow to kill my assistant before she leaves with you guys . . ." Daniel said, shocked, embarrassed, and extremely pissed.

"Let me guess – Amanda helped you?" she assumed, amused – leave it to Amanda to take it too far. "Yeah," Daniel replied, sheepishly. Betty laughed. "It's okay. It's the thought that counts – and you're extremely sweet for trying," she smiled. "Now go, so I can finish changing!" she affectionately chased him away and began to shut the door. "You're not gonna wear those . . . are you?" he peeked his head back in, curiously. "Go!" she giggled and rolled her eyes.

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"Hey," Betty quietly spoke as she timidly approached her boyfriend. "Hey, you look . . . great," Daniel smiled. "Thank you. They're just PJs and a robe though . . ." she modestly smiled back. "True, but you make them look hot . Come here . . ." he grabbed her hand, trying to pull her onto the blanket beside him. "Are you sure that's a good idea . . . considering what happened only ten minutes ago?" she said skeptically. "I promise we'll be fine – sit," he patted the blanket.

"Ok . . ."she cautiously sat down across from him. "So . . . how did your party go?" he asked. "Good. Everyone loved my braces-free look – especially Justin," she laughed taking a cube of cheese. Daniel smiled as he poured glasses of wine for each of them.

"And Hilda's so excited about London. But she's driving me up the wall, insisting on seeing all these places together because once she's a 'married woman' she'll hardly get to spend time with me. _She_ might be taking a vacation, but she's knows_ I_ have to work –" she ranted, rolling her eyes in frustration.

"Don't work yourself too hard – it's not even _our_ Fashion Week. You don't have to race around trying to help me run it or set up or clean up afterwards. Enjoy the shows, focus on getting the latest on the hottest new designers, and make sure Dylan gets some great shots of the models. You'll have plenty of time to hang out with your sister. Take her to some of the runway shows – she likes those. That way you'll be spending time with her while you're working," he suggested.

"Good idea. I just wish that was my only problem," she sighed. "Wedding troubles?" he assumed. "How did you guess?" she smiled and shook her head. "Hilda's flipping out because the caterer refuses to use Mami's special recipe for the tamales and she's not about to ask me or Papi to do it because we're supposed to be _in_ the wedding and enjoying the reception. I'd do it anyway, but the tamales have to be fresh – not frozen or even made the night before – or they don't have the same flavor," Betty explained.

"And then there's the flower crisis – the florist agreed to a certain price for all the arrangements, but after Hilda decided she wanted to change one type of flower, the florist upped the price $5 per small arrangement and $10 for the large. That wouldn't be so bad if there weren't 25 arrangements in all when you count the ones at the church, her bouquet, my bouquet, and all the tables at the reception – that's another $300 right there!" she complained.

"And the alteration department literally hit a snag with her dress and isn't sure if they'll be able to fix the problem _and_ get it altered, so Hilda's insisting she has to lose ten pounds in case they can't let it out in time. She's eaten nothing but celery sticks, lettuce and some sort of nasty herbal concoction for the past week. Everything's a mess . . ." she buried her head in her hands.

"Whoa! Hey . . . calm down! It's going to be okay – alright?" he pulled her toward him and loosened the top of her robe, starting to massage her shoulders. "I didn't mean to get you all worked-up – this was supposed to be about you relaxing. You try so hard to take care of other people - including me. So. _Tonight_ I want to take care of _you_. If you want, go ahead and throw MODE's name or the company around in order to play hardball with the caterer and florist – you do it so well," he grinned and kissed her cheek.

"And since Christina's skills aren't really convenient, I could have MODE's stylist make Hilda's dress alteration top priority," Daniel offered. "You'd do that, for me? Oh my god, that's so sweet. Thank you!" Betty accepted, hugging him. "You do know that under normal circumstances I wouldn't ask for special treatment . . . but I'll admit having a boyfriend with connections does have its perks sometimes . . ." she teased and gently kissed his lips.

"Well, I'm glad I can help," he smiled modestly. "So . . . what movie are we watching?" she asked, taking a handful of caramel popcorn. "'Casablanca'," he replied. "Aww . . . that's one of my favorites – but you hate black & white movies?" she pointed out. "Yeah, but I can sacrifice every once in a while – especially for you. Besides, it does have some classic lines in it," he added. "You're too good to me," she smiled, feeding him a strawberry. "I know," he smirked and fed her one back.

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The candles had been blown out earlier and the only light was the flickering of the TV. Daniel rubbed his eyes and looked over at Betty, still fast asleep in his arms. He hated to wake her, but the whole blanket on the floor idea wasn't very comfortable for sleeping purposes, and he wasn't going to leave her there alone. "Baby, wake up," he gently shook her. "Betty?" he nudged her. "Mmm . . . 'here's lookin' at you, kid' . . ." she muttered. Daniel snickered and gave up.

He picked her up and carried her into the bedroom, tucking her in, removing her glasses. He stripped down to his boxers and climbed on the other side, making sure there was enough room between them that he didn't feel any inconvenient urges. However, Betty instinctively gravitated towards him, wrapping her arm around his waist and burying her head in his chest. He smiled and held her close, kissing the top of her head.

It wasn't as if they hadn't slept in the same bed, couch, whatever before. The difference was that there really hadn't been any boundaries since they were a couple. Whatever happened . . . happened, and most of the time they didn't even get that far - were too tired or had to get ready for work or some sort of something. And it never really bothered him actually – which was new, considering he had sex with a woman on the first date as a general rule.

But now that there _was_ a boundary he was finding it nearly impossible to refrain from crossing it. _Two weeks_ – one week, he wouldn't even see her so that would fly by, right? Only one more after that . . . unless she really was stalling for some other reason? Nah, she was all over him in the office yesterday – he knew she would've stopped him if she hadn't wanted it too . . . _Damn Wilhelmina_ for barging in on them . . . He sighed and fought to fall back asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

_Thanks, everyone, for the feedback - it's always loved! Like Daniel, you'll have to be patient, and wait and see . . . Enjoy! :)_

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"Morning," Daniel smiled down at Betty.

"Morning," she looked up at him.

She looked around and noticed they were in his bed.

"Umm . . . we didn't . . . you know . . . did we?" she timidly asked.

"No," he assured her.

"Good – I mean not good – I mean – you know what I mean . . ." she struggled desperately with her torn feelings.

"Yeah, I do," Daniel chuckled and kissed her temple.

She lightly ran her hands through his disheveled hair.

"You do realize that you drive me crazy?" he teased her lips.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, turning her head away.

"No. Baby, it's a good thing. The best parts of my day are when I get to see you . . . hold you . . . kiss you . . ." he told her in between kisses.

"Mine, too. I'm going to miss you," she admitted.

"Not as much as I'm going to miss you . . ." he said.

"Come with me, then," she suggested.

"Betty, we talked about this," he gently reminded her.

"Yeah, I know . . . Doesn't mean I like it," she said.

"Me neither . . . but there's that computer video phone thing Amanda tried to show me," he said.

"You mean Skype?" she tried to contain her amusement of his lack of web knowledge.

"Yeah, whatever. And we can always call and text each other," he pointed out.

"True," she agreed, snuggling up to him.

"You know what I'll miss the most?" he said.

"What?" she asked.

"Your sleep-talking," he teased.

"_What?_ I do _not!_" she insisted, embarrassed.

"Sorry, baby, but you do. It's adorable! Last night, it was a line from the movie, a couple of days ago you kept saying your bunny was drowning," he chuckled.

"You're making that up!" she playfully smacked him.

"I am _not_ - _I swear!_ Next time I'll put a tape recorder next to you to prove it," he joked.

"You will _not!_" she protested.

"Why? Because you know it's true?" he smirked.

"No! . . . But what if it was? You'd use it as ammo against me someday," she teased.

"You know, I didn't think about that before, but you gave me a great idea . . ." he teased.

"_Daniel . . ._" she pleaded. "Fine. But FYI – you snore like a freight train."

Betty was exaggerating by a landslide, but couldn't stand to let Daniel have all the fun.

"Liar," he challenged.

"I am not – I – It's totally true!" she stammered, avoiding his eyes.

"And _that_ is exactly how I know it's not – you're a horrible liar," he chuckled.

"Yeah, you're right," she reluctantly admitted.

"Of course I am," he cockily said.

"Okay – _now_ you're gonna get it!" she playfully climbed on top of him and started to tickle him. Daniel grabbed her wrists.

"Am I?" he stopped her.

"Definitely," she slyly smiled and parted his lips with her tongue.

"If this is my punishment, maybe I should annoy you more often . . .?" he grinned devilishly.

"Don't even think about it," she warned.

"Ok – I won't . . ." he looked at her mischievously, then attacked her.

"Not fair! _Stop!_" she giggled.

He loved making her laugh.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he stared at her.

"And you're not so bad yourself . . ." Betty smiled.

Daniel crashed into her lips, continuing to avoid getting ready for work until they absolutely had to.

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"Come on, you two lovebirds! _Ay! _Betty – either pry yourself off of your man or go book a room at the airport hotel! _Vamonos, Chica!_ We're gonna miss our flight!" Hilda yelled at her sister.

"Mmm . . . Aren't they hot together? They should _totally_ get a room . . ." Amanda stared at them.

"_Amanda_ – _not_ _helping!_" Hilda lightly smacked her arm. "Besides, isn't it a little weird for you? _I_ only kissed him once - but _you_ used to go out with Daniel, right?"

"_Eh._ I'm _sooo_ over him! I'm really into his sexier brother right now – not the tranny – the half one," Amanda explained. "Oh . . ." Hilda answered before remembering their dilemma.

"Ok, Missy – now!" Hilda literally pulled Betty away from Daniel and out of the limo.

"_Hilda!_" Betty protested.

"Bye, baby!" Betty called, holding onto his hand until she couldn't reach it anymore.

"I'll talk to you later, babe," Daniel sat there with a goofy grin on his face and waved.

"_What_ has gotten into you? If I didn't know any better I'd think _you two_ were the ones getting married. _Oooooooo!_ Things are really heating up for you guys, aren't they?" Hilda nudged Betty as they took their luggage from the driver.

"Kinda . . ." she vaguely answered.

"What the hell does that mean?" Hilda demanded, continuing to walk into the airport.

"Yeah, you guys _have_ done 'the nasty', right?" Amanda assumed.

"Well . . . not exactly," Betty replied as she pressed the button for the elevator.

"I didn't want to say anything in front of Papi or anyone else last night . . . but yesterday afternoon in Daniel's office, Wilhelmina walked in on us," Betty revealed, after the elevator doors had shut.

"_Whaaat?_ You mean you two were . . . in his _office_? Ay!" Hilda exclaimed.

Betty cringed, embarrassed.

"So how much did she see?" Hilda asked, intrigued.

"Enough, unfortunately. We were kissing - and Daniel's shirt was open. But the worst was that I had my hands on his ass, his lips were all in my cleavage, and his hand was about to push up my skirt just as she walked in," Betty awkwardly informed them.

"Ok – TMI, baby sister. TMI!" Hilda stopped her, the elevator doors opening on their designated floor.

"Well you _did_ ask . . ." Betty pointed out, as they walked into the kiosk area.

"Sounds pretty PG compared to the rumor that was flying around afterward," Amanda scoffed, unimpressed.

"Rumor? What rumor?" Betty asked. How the hell did any rumor get started – Wilhelmina promised to keep her mouth zipped . . .?

"Well, word has it that you and Daniel were naked as Halston and _much_ further along. Wilhelmina fainted from the hideous sight and Marc had to use smelling salts to revive her," Amanda whispered, eager to spill.

Betty's mouth dropped wide open. _Marc! _They had grown fairly close after she helped him come out to his mother and they both got into YETI. Regardless, that freakin' loudmouth couldn't keep his trap shut and his impulse to BS off if his life depended on it! _Son of a bitch!_ Forget it – people would say and think what they wanted. She'd just have to live with her mistake for now and eventually they'd find some other poor person to spread rumors about.

"Betty? Are you okay?" Hilda asked.

Betty realized she still had her mouth open and hadn't spoken.

"Yeah, fine!" she assured her sister. "Can we talk about something else?"

As they approached the security area, she hoped her trip to London would be an escape from her impending problems at home.

It wasn't so much the rumors, but the fact that she still had reservations about what _didn't_ happen and what ultimately would _have_ to . . . well it wouldn't _have_ to, but she definitely didn't think Daniel was the type to settle for a life of celibacy and honestly, despite her fears, she didn't think she could either – especially not with _Daniel_ . . . Hilda literally had to pry her off of him because she didn't want to leave him for just a week . . . That spoke volumes, didn't it?

And there she went in the same circle as she did the other night . . . she was so screwed up! Why couldn't she just -?

"Ma'm? You're holding up the line. Please place your bags on the conveyor belt and step through the metal detector," the guard requested.

"Oh! Sorry!" she apologized, embarrassed she got so caught up in her thoughts that she couldn't even concentrate.

She quickly hoisted her suitcase onto the conveyor, dumped out the contents of her purse, and walked through the metal detector – _thank god_ she didn't have braces anymore . . . Okay – London here she came! Time for fashion, working and partying - leaving everything else until she got back. Hell, maybe she'd even gain an entirely new perspective by the end of her trip – she could dream, right?

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Daniel rubbed the back of his neck, apprehensive that he hadn't heard from Betty in two days. She had contacted him in some way, shape, or form every day since she had left: cute little "Miss U" picture texts, a phone or video chat before she went to sleep or when she woke up – he didn't care how early or late it happened to be. Maybe she was just really busy – or maybe her phone died and she misplaced her charger?

Was he really this needy and pathetic that he couldn't go without some form of communication with her for a couple of days – even if it was listening to her enthusiastically babble on about the detailed architecture of a historic building or how one of the up-and-coming fashion designers was actually homeless for a while, selling makeshift handbags off the streets, before getting a break and managing to score a scholarship to a design school.

It was 2AM in London so there was no way he was going to get anything from her tonight anyway. Besides, she and the girls were probably just out celebrating their last nights there. And he had Bobby's bachelor party to go to the next day. She'd be home late tomorrow night, anyway. He laid his phone down and turned on the TV. Some lame-ass cop comedy was the only thing remotely interesting he could find. He heard a buzz, but blew it off as being from the TV. He leaned back on the couch and fell asleep half-way through the movie.

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He woke up a few hours later, rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock on his blu-ray player. Time to go to bed. And what was that inane beeping? He noticed his cell phone was lit up – a video message from Betty. He immediately opened it up:

"_Hey, Daniel!" Betty waved from her hotel room. "Whoops! Where'd that table come from?" she giggled as she bumped into it, clearly hammered. _

_"Anyway . . . – ulrp – 'scuse me!" she slurred. "Here's a peek sneak of what to expect when you get home . . ." she giggled and lifted up her top and bra. _

_"Bra-tinerary! Woooo!" she squealed before pulling her top back down and stumbling to the bed. "Oh! And I'm really really in love with me . . ." she confessed and pointed to him. _

_"Nite . . ." she waved._

_Holy shit!_ Did she just – and then just? _Damn!_ . . . Okay. She was drunk – but she could still seriously be . . . _Wow!_ Was he? He didn't know . . . he'd never really thought about it. He hated being without her . . . every little thing she said or did made him smile or turned him on . . . even in her clumsy, drunken state, she was irresistible . . . she was the first person he wanted to tell anything to . . . the last voice he wanted to hear at night and the first in the morning . . .

He trusted her completely . . . he'd do anything to make her safe and happy . . . there was no one else he'd rather be with more . . . What if she wasn't in love with him? . . . Being drunk could make you do and say some pretty stupid things – he knew – he'd said and done pretty much all of them at one time or another. _Oh god!_ He ran his hands over his face. _He was in love with her!_ . . . _And he'd fallen hard . . ._


	8. Chapter 8

_Thank you again for all the wonderful responses - they're greatly appreciated, as always! Here's an extra long chapter. Enjoy! :)_

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Betty was so relieved to finally be home. She didn't know what the hell had happened the last night, but it had obviously involved_ waaay_ too much alcohol . . . _Never_ again! Now she knew how Daniel had felt when he had stayed at her family's and couldn't make it into the office. That's exactly what she had felt like doing, but no luck. It was the last day of Fashion Week and there was no way of bailing. The plane was no better.

Even in first class, she still found it difficult to sleep with flight attendants coming by with their carts, hot towels or trash bags every 30 minutes and her sister and Amanda nudging her every 5 to look at something in a bridal or fashion magazine. Why the hell they weren't hung over, she had no idea. They were drinking as much, if not more. Probably just more tolerant. Regardless, all she wanted to do now was go home, crawl into her soft, comfortable bed, and sleep it off.

She texted Daniel to let him know they'd arrived and that she'd call him later. Not that she didn't want to see him, but there was no point in him having to drag his ass out of bed at 4AM just to ride all the way home with her and watch her immediately fall asleep once she got there. She knew he had probably had a long night himself with the bachelor party . . . even though she would miss spending yet another night in his arms.

In terms of convenience, she was beginning to wonder if the whole living situation wouldn't be easier if they just shared one of their apartments. But she was too weak to even go into the logistics of that right now . . . and of course the other unspoken topic of the moment, which might inevitably negate the first thought anyway. She needed to clear her mind of anything but getting home and going to sleep. The rest she could deal with later.

Daniel waited for Betty at the baggage claim. She hadn't checked any, but he knew Amanda and Hilda packed everything but the kitchen sink. She insisted he didn't have to come, that it was too early in the morning and he would have just been out late at Bobby's bachelor party. But he wanted to be there. He _had_ to be there. See her face . . . feel his arms around her . . . watch her smile . . . No matter how exhausted he was, he couldn't wait.

"Daniel?" Betty approached him, touched that he'd drag himself out of bed at this hour of the night after partying with Bobby and his friends. "What are you doing here? I told you not to worry about me."

"I thought I'd surprise you," he said, hoping he didn't appear too pathetic. _God_ she looked amazing – even with her hair pulled back in a messy, falling-apart ponytail and jet-lagged expression on her face.

"You're the sweetest man I know," she smiled and happily captured his lips.

"I missed you," Daniel whispered as their foreheads touched.

"I missed you, too," Betty tightly held onto him. And she had – more than she thought was possible.

"Let's go," he suggested.

They walked over to Amanda and Hilda, who had just gotten all of their bags, and headed for the town car.

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"Hey, baby? Where do you want me to put your suitcase?" Daniel called from the kitchen, while Betty had immediately gone to change, after getting in. "Betty?"

He went into the bedroom and found her collapsed on the bed. Her blouse was half-over her head, revealing her navy blue cami. One of her strappy wedges was still on, the other haplessly thrown on the floor.

He smiled, proceeding to remove her remaining shoe and carefully sliding the rest of her top off of her head. He gently moved her onto her side of the bed and under the covers, then went to turn off the lights in the hallway. He finally slid into bed beside her, brushed a fallen piece of her hair back, and gently kissed her cheek. He wrapped his arm around her waist and contently drifted off to sleep.

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Betty woke to the smell of kung pao chicken and egg rolls. She rolled out of bed and into the kitchen to find Daniel taking out cartons of Chinese from a plastic sack.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty," he smiled.

"Hey," she coyly smiled back. "So I guess in the version your mother told you, Prince Charming woke her with Chinese instead of a kiss?"

Her arms encircling his neck as she quickly pecked his lips. He chuckled.

"I was gonna wake you with both, but the food beat me to it, I guess," he shrugged and planted a firm but brief kiss on her mouth.

"Thank you . . . I'm starving!" she replied as they sat down and enjoyed their food.

"How was the rest of your trip?" Daniel asked.

"Good. I already have a draft done for the article and I think Dylan got some really great shots of everything. Everyone had a blast! Christina said to tell you 'Hi!' and 'It's about bloody time, you big oaf!' – whatever that means," she rolled her eyes and tried to play dumb.

Daniel chuckled and shook his head. Christina was anything but subtle. She and he had had their differences after Wilhelmina's baby plot, but he knew what a good friend she was to Betty. She was a good person, overall, and an amazing stylist and designer, so he never held a grudge once he found out her reasons for siding with Wilhelmina.

"Oh – Amanda was convinced she could make the guards at Buckingham Palace smile. She almost flashed them – insisting that would definitely get their attention. It took all three of us to drag her out of there before she actually did it. I'm sure it would've piqued their interests, but then she'd have been thrown in jail in a foreign country," she rolled her eyes and shook her head.

Daniel laughed.

"Speaking of flashing, thanks for the little present you sent me the other night," he casually brought up the subject, trying to feel his way around her thoughts, now that she was sober.

"Huh? What present?" she asked, her mind going blank. She didn't think she'd mentioned she got him anything. "Oh! That reminds me . . ."

She got up and opened her suitcase.

"I got you a little something . . . The storeowner made it himself . . . I had him wrap it in Styrofoam . . . And then, at the airport, I had to be taken aside and unwrap the thing when I went through customs. So I hope I packed it back right and it didn't break on the ride home . . ." Betty handed Daniel a cardboard box.

Daniel carefully unwrapped the box, amused at her concern over a simple souvenir. However, when he lifted up the Styrofoam, he saw why.

"Betty this is great – thank you!" he exclaimed, looking at the modernistic yet somewhat vintage-style black circular clock with Roman numerals and a light tan, distressed paper looking face.

"London is known for their clock-making . . . And I thought you could use a new one for your office," she knowingly smiled at him, blushing a little. "There's an inscription on the back . . ."

He slowly turned it over.

"'To Daniel: Time flies by when I'm with you. ~ Betty'" he read out loud.

He found it hard to speak. He awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Thank you," he softly said, taking her hand and kissing it.

"I'm glad you like it," she said, squeezing his hand.

She had gone back and forth over whether it was too cheesy of an inscription, whether the clock was too much of a reminder to both of them. But fortunately it seemed to be going over well.

"So that's what you were talking about when you mentioned the present, right?" she wondered.

"Actually, no," Daniel replied.

"What did you mean then?" she tried to rack her brain of anything else she might have shown or told him. Nothing.

"Well . . . you uh . . . you sent me an interesting video text a couple nights ago . . ." he carefully began.

"Ok . . . you wanna stop being cryptic and just spit it out?" she nervously laughed. What the hell was so horrible – other than the fact that she couldn't remember sending it to him?

"You flashed me, okay? Like full on flashed me," he spat it out.

"Oh. Wow! _Oh my god_! Was I drunk? 'Cause I don't remember that at all," she exclaimed. Holy crap! How did that happen? What the hell was she thinking?

"Yeah, you were pretty drunk. But don't worry, it was just a flash and it was on my phone not my computer so I didn't see that much," he tried to calm her down.

"Still . . . I don't know what came over me . . . Did I do or say anything else?" she meekly inquired.

"Uhhh . . . here –" he handed her his phone.

Betty watched herself in horror.

"Okay . . . so apparently I'm also in love with myself . . .?" she commented, thoroughly embarrassed.

Daniel's stomach did a flip. It was obvious she either didn't feel that way after all or wasn't ready to admit it yet. Either way, he couldn't let her know how he felt - _if_ that really was what he was feeling. After all, he had thought he had loved a few other women before and he didn't – not the kind of love he was feeling for Betty, anyway . . .

"Can we please just forget about this?" she desperately requested.

Betty was mortified and could barely look Daniel in his gorgeous blue eyes. What he probably thought of her right now . . . So much for being respectable . . . at least it hadn't been in public and she had only sent it to _him_ – she hoped, remembering Hilda's accidental slip of sending her risqué pictures meant only for Archie to a ton of other people. Wait – if she had done that, she knew she would've gotten a response . . .

"Sure," Daniel masked his disappointment, but he didn't want to push her into anything. He'd just relax and enjoy the ride, hoping she'd eventually feel the same.

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A few days later, Betty was on her way back to her office when she ran smack into someone.

"Oh! Sorry!" she exclaimed. "Mr. Dunne! What are you doing here, in New York? If you're looking for Daniel, he's in his office - which is straight ahead."

"Quite frankly, I was looking for you, my dear," he informed her.

"Me?" she asked, puzzled.

She had met with Lindsey Dunne in London about writing some online articles for his fashion magazine, on the side. But she had realized that it wasn't what she wanted to continue doing. She was going nowhere as far as her goal of writing for 'real world' people and having the chance to truly inspire others, so she ended up turning it down.

"Yes. I'm creating a start-up magazine that's similar to a younger person's New Yorker and I'd like for you to help me run it – in London," he smiled.

"You want _me_ to help you run a magazine?" she repeated, flabbergasted.

He owned the biggest publishing company in London – it was as large and well-respected as MEADE.

"Yes, I believe you have the perfect voice I'm searching for," he replied.

"Wow! Really? You think _I_ have the perfect voice?" she squealed.

"Yes, quite," he chuckled, amused by her high-pitched enthusiasm.

"Wait – did you say London?" Betty's mind finally caught up, as she let it all sink in.

"Correct. Is that a problem?" he inquired.

"Kind of . . . I mean, I wasn't prepared to leave the country. All of my family and friends are here . . ." she trailed off . . . and Daniel – _especially_ Daniel. There was no way she could leave him.

She'd miss her family terribly, but Hilda and Justin had Bobby to look after them now, and Elena would be finishing nursing school soon and would be moving back to New York to be with Papi . . . They really didn't need her anymore. But Daniel . . . she couldn't stand being away from him for a _week_ . . . this was her dream job . . . but it wasn't worth sacrificing what she had with him – even if she couldn't really define it at this point. _No._ She wasn't going.

"Mr. Dunne, I really appreciate the offer – I'm beyond flattered! But I'm afraid I can't accept it," she graciously and reluctantly declined. If only it weren't in London . . .

"I'm sorry to hear that," he replied and paused for a second. "Perhaps you might mull over it for a bit more? Give me a ring by Monday?"

"Of course. Thank you – I will," Betty politely answered, even though she told herself she still wouldn't change her mind with all the time in the world.

"Cheerio!" he waved goodbye.

"Cheerio!" she smiled and waved back.

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"Remind me to thank Daniel for getting my dress altered in time. Even with Amanda's diet remedy, I still think you'd be standing here for another hour, trying to shove me into it if it hadn't been let out. I don't get how I managed to gain so much," Hilda told Betty as she zipped up her gown.

"Hilda, you didn't gain but maybe 5 pounds and it didn't show – believe me._ I'm_ the one who could probably stand to lose a few," Betty assured her.

"Aww . . . Honey, you're just fine! This isn't about Daniel is it? Because trust me, that man loves you with all his heart," Hilda replied.

"What? _No!_ What? Did he say something to you? Did you start drilling him with questions, while I was talking to Papi and Elena?" Betty asked, annoyed.

Hilda could be so nosy sometimes. How the hell else would she think she knew? She was probably just jumping to conclusions again.

"No! He's never said anything to me and I've never asked. But I can see it in his eyes, Betty. Daniel is head-over-heels in love with you," Hilda insisted.

"You're delusional, and light-headed from not enough food! Plus, you've got romance on the brain," Betty brushed her sister's theory off.

"Deny it all you want, baby sister. But don't say I never told you so," Hilda wouldn't back down. "Yeah, well, even if you're right, there's no telling how he'll feel after we . . ." she trailed off.

"You mean you two still haven't . . .? Ay! Chica, what are you waiting for?" Hilda exclaimed.

"I don't know . . . the more I think about it . . . I'm scared . . ." Betty admitted.

"_Whaaat?_ Why? It's Daniel – not some stranger. You guys have known each other for years. If anything, that should make it easier," Hilda wondered.

"Well it has, with everything else . . . it's just . . . I – I just know I'm not his type. Every other girl he's been with was a skinny toothpick. He's never had a problem with it, but then again he's never actual seen me naked either – well, other than a brief drunken video text flash . . . And then there's my lack of experience . . ." Betty trailed off.

"Sweetie, who was the one who wanted a relationship in the first place? Who was the one who tried to prove they had changed?" Hilda pointed out.

"Daniel?" Betty answered.

"Exactly. Daniel has been the one pursuing _you_! If he didn't want you, he would've left a long time ago . . . And if taking the next step scares him off, it's his loss! Because you are one sexy Latina diva and the best person I know!" Hilda reassured her sister, giving her a hug.

"Thank you, Hilda . . . Look at me – this is supposed to be about you and your wedding day and here we are talking about me and my problems," Betty dabbed her eyes, careful not to smear her makeup. "Okay . . . So! You've got something old – Mami's veil. Something new – your dress. Something borrowed – Elena's ring. What about something blue?"

"Oh my god! What am I gonna do?" Hilda panicked.

"Wait! I have the perfect thing! I had them in here to go with my change of clothes if I needed some later . . . Here!" Betty found her bag and pulled out a pair of small, light blue, butterfly stud earrings. "They've always brought me good luck,"

"Oh, Betty. Thank you!" Hilda said, a tear starting to come down her cheek.

"Careful, we don't want to have to do your makeup all over again," Betty smiled.

"Yeah, I think Papi and Daniel are gonna start yelling at us again if we don't get down there soon! The limo's probably here by now to pick us up," Hilda laughed.

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As Daniel watched Hilda and Bobby's ceremony, he couldn't stop staring at Betty. She looked so beautiful in her emerald green one-strap dress with her hair elegantly styled in sleek up-do, so happy and proud as she watched her sister on the happiest day of her life.

While listening to their vows: 'love, honor, cherish, in sickness and health, for as long as they lived' along with the touching vows Hilda and Bobby had written each other, he pictured standing up there with Betty. Because at that moment, Daniel confirmed to himself that there was no one else he'd rather spend the rest of his life with.

Betty noticed out of the corner of her eye that Daniel was staring at her. Was he thinking what she thought he was thinking? Was Hilda right? Maybe . . . no – it was just the angle he was sitting at. He was probably focused on Hilda and Bobby – as he should be – but she was in his line of vision. Right. That made sense – after all, it was their day.

She glanced at him again and happened to catch his eye. His smile was different somehow. She wasn't sure what it was but the way he looked at her . . . maybe Hilda _was_ right. Okay, now _she_ was being delusional. He was her boyfriend. He did have the right to stare – and it was probably just at her boobs after that embarrassing video she sent him.

Why did it even bother her? If he was in love with her – great. If not – that was okay too. They'd only been together a few months . . . The start of cheering and the feel of Hilda tugging to reclaim her bouquet snapped Betty out of her trance. She walked back up the aisle, arm in arm with Justin, with a smile pasted on her face. She didn't know why she couldn't stop obsessing.

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"It was really sweet of Hilda to drag me into one of the wedding pictures," Daniel commented, holding Betty close as they danced to another song.

"I think that was her way of thanking you for your contribution to the wedding planning. Plus, she thinks of you as family, anyway," she smiled.

"Really?" he was pleasantly surprised.

Although, he had spent a lot of time with them over the years – especially that one time he decorated the Christmas tree with them. He'd had a lot of man-to-man talks with Ignacio, spent some quality time with Justin – a great kid – and Hilda, while nosy and sassy, was very sweet. He cared about them, too.

"Mmmhmm . . . That's why I picked you – finally a guy my family truly likes," she teased.

"Is that so? Well, I'll have you know that that's why I picked you, too. You're the only girl my mother's ever liked, too. Her usual remarks when I date someone are, 'Let me guess – silicone, saline, and a napkin?'" Daniel mused.

"They _are not!_" Betty giggled.

"I'm not lying – she actually said it to a girl, once," he insisted.

Betty admitted to herself, knowing Claire Meade's blunt personality, she probably did.

"Hey, Daniel and AB – say 'Cheese'!" Justin came up to them with his digital camera.

He insisted on bringing it to the reception as back-up, because professionals 'mess up the obvious shots all the time and there are no re-shoots at weddings'. Daniel stood behind Betty and put his arms around her and they both smiled politely. Then he spontaneously kissed her on the cheek, causing her to grin and blush, making for a great candid shot.

"Thanks, you guys. The unexpected shots are always the best!" he exclaimed and went off to find Austin.

Daniel spun Betty around and started dancing with her again.

"After spending all night on the floor, you've still got energy in you, don't you?" she giggled. "Must be my partner – she gives me all the motivation I need . . ." he flirted with her.

Betty shyly smiled. Every time she was in his arms she felt safe and protected. He never missed a moment making her feel special. It couldn't be an act, because there were all of these beautiful, single women here and she noticed he hadn't taken his eyes off of her. She didn't know what she had been afraid of.

"What?" Daniel asked.

"Nothing. Just looking at you, thinking about how amazing you are . . ." she told him, resting her head on his chest.

"So are you, baby," he kissed the top of her head.

"Hey, you two . . . I hate to interrupt, but I need to steal Betty away for a few minutes," Hilda gently tapped Daniel on the shoulder.

"Sure," he told Hilda.

"I'm gonna go mingle a little," he looked at Betty, who nodded and left to assist her sister in the ladies room.

Daniel spotted Amanda standing alone and wondered where his brother had wandered off to.

"Heeeey! Wanna go in that closet – I'll show you all kinds of things . . ." Amanda stumbled into Daniel and pointed.

"Uh . . . that's the hotel lobby and no, I don't," he pried her off of him.

"Where's Tyler?" he asked.

"Fight . . . don't care . . . what does he know about fashion . . .?" she tried to loosen Daniel's tie. "Mmmm . . . let's get it on right here right now – just do me!"

Daniel laughed before pushing her off of him again.

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Betty walked back from helping Hilda and honestly thought after watching him tonight, she was truly ready. At least until she came into the main room and saw Amanda plastered all over him – and was he laughing? Her stomach plummeted and she could feel tears immediately well in her eyes as she ran out into the lobby.

That was _it_! Everything she had told herself was just fear and paranoia turned out to be true. He still wanted that skank! And she was supposed to be her friend! Amanda had supported her and Daniel's relationship all along, only to backstab her. Once again the beautiful girl won – just like with Jesse. Maybe she needed to forget about men and focus on something she could control, something that didn't tear her heart apart or toy with her emotions – her career.

She looked in the coat closet and found her phone. "Hello, Mr. Dunne? It's Betty Suarez. Yes. I've decided I would like the job, if it's still on the table. Great! In a month? Perfect. Thank you. Goodbye." Betty hung up, and felt somewhat better, but she still couldn't make the pit in her stomach subside.

She grabbed her coat, bag, and clutch and hailed a cab to her family's house. She couldn't go home, because Daniel had a key and would follow her – if he even cared, that is. She texted Justin so they'd know where she'd disappeared to and begged him not to tell Daniel if he asked – that'd she'd explain later. She knew she'd have to face him eventually, but that night, she couldn't bring herself to do it.

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Daniel scanned the room. Where was Marc when he needed him? Oh, figures - with that older client of Amanda's. He dragged her over to Marc and dumped her on him.

"Oooooh . . . you're hot too . . ." she told Marc.

"She's all yours," Daniel smiled sympathetically at Marc, amused.

"Thanks!" Marc sarcastically replied. "_Maaanddyyy_ . . . I love you – I really do, but _stop trying to give me a hickey . . . Ewww!_"

"Hey, Bro, Marc. She driving you two insane, yet?" Tyler joked.

"_Finally!_ Go take her home and let her sleep it off, before she upstages Justin's fabulous début!" Marc huffed at Tyler.

Daniel and Tyler looked at each other and laughed.

"Go!" he barked.

"Later, man. Word of advice – never tell your girl her see-through, self-designed gown isn't appropriate for a wedding," Tyler smiled at Daniel and left with a wobbly Amanda.

"Are we going to the closet?" she hiccupped.

Daniel went off to find Betty. She had to be back by then because he just saw Hilda talking to some of the other guests.

"Hey, Hilda, do you know where Betty is?" he went up to her.

"No, I haven't seen her since she left the ladies room – I thought she was with you," she answered.

"I can't find her," he shook his head.

"I wouldn't worry about it. She probably just got caught talking to one of our relatives. You guys have been glued to each other the entire night," she pointed out, smiling. "Why don't you go introduce yourself to some of them – I have a feeling it'll be yours and Betty's day soon enough . . ."

Daniel cheeks turned red and he grinned, sheepishly.

"You never give up . . ." he chuckled, amazed at how brazen she was.

"I just know what I know . . . and _you_, my friend, just got all embarrassed . . . but didn't deny it - proving my point," she patted him on the back, thoroughly satisfied.

"I'm gonna go find Betty. Again, congratulations," his kissed her cheek and left, avoiding having any more of his unspoken thoughts exposed.

He hoped Amanda hadn't blabbed about that certain shopping excursion they'd gone on during one of his 'lunch meetings', the past week. It wasn't exactly the right time yet – he hadn't told her he was in love with her, he didn't know whether she even felt the same and he knew he was probably jumping the gun, yet again . . . but he wanted to be prepared if and when the moment came.


	9. Chapter 9

_Thank you so much for your wonderful responses - they mean a lot! You might get your wish as far as Betty getting a harsh lecture - whether she listens or not, you'll have to read and see . . . lol. Here's the next chapter! :)_

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"_Ay! Dios Mio! Estas loca en la cabeza_? Don't make me come back from Hawaii just so I can smack some sense into you!" Betty heard the voice on the other end of the phone say; in the town car, on her way to work.

"Hilda? What are you even doing calling me right now? Enjoy your honeymoon and don't worry about me!" Betty insisted.

"Justin texted me and I couldn't let you ruin your life," Hilda explained.

"_Me_, ruin my life? _Daniel's_ the one at fault here. I'm just trying to salvage what's left of it. And even though it's all the way in London, this is still my dream job. Why shouldn't I take it?" Betty defended herself.

"Because you're only doing it to run away from your problems. Tell me something – if you hadn't supposedly seen Amanda all up in Daniel's business, would you have taken the job?" Hilda asked.

". . . No," Betty reluctantly answered, knowing her sister was making some valid points and hating it.

She stepped out of the car, grabbing her laptop case and politely thanking the driver.

"Did you even give him a chance to explain? Because I honestly don't believe it's what you're making it out to be. If it is, trust me – I'll kick his ass so hard he won't be able to sit or stand for weeks! But I think you're wrong. He came to me, looking for you. I made a few comments about how it might be you two standing up there someday. Honey, the look in his eyes . . . the way he smiled . . . He's in this with you for real," Hilda tried to convince her sister.

"Hilda, you didn't see him with her. And they have a history together – however superficial and non-committal it was . . . I just can't compete on that level – I'm done!" Betty refused to back down, as she opened the door to the MEADE building.

"If you wanna make a dumbass choice like throwing away what was the best relationship of your life, then that's your decision. I love you, and I want you to be happy. But remember, Daniel did that for you. I've never seen you happier than in the four years he's been in your life – or sadder whenever you fought. It was like a piece of you was missing without him. And I think that's because he's your soulmate," Hilda informed her. "You two might not have realized how deep your connection was until a few months ago, but it was always there. I hate to see you leave behind the best thing in your life, because you're scared that this is real."

Betty sighed, irritated by how easily her sister could get into her head and speak the truth she didn't want to hear - especially when it didn't matter anymore.

"I'm _not_ scared that this is real! _Daniel_ is the one who screwed this up!" she reminded her, stepping into the elevator.

"You don't know that for sure. And you aren't asking for the truth. You're looking for a way out, because you're still afraid of taking the next step with him," Hilda pointed out.

"No, I am not! When I walked into that room again, I was finally ready. But then I saw him with Amanda, and I knew my instincts had been right all along. He'll never change," Betty tried not to cry as she walked out of the elevator and into MODE.

"Fine. If you wanna run away to another country without even hearing the truth – fine! But at least tell Daniel you're leaving. Don't leave him in the dark to find out from somebody else. He deserves to know from you," Hilda reasoned with her.

"Okay. I'll tell Daniel I'm taking the job in London," Betty relented.

"You're taking a job in London?" Marc gasped as he walked by her and stopped.

"Hilda, I've gotta go. Thank you for calling and have fun. I love you both and I'll see you when you get back. Bye," Betty hurriedly hung up. "Yes, Marc, I'm taking a job in London. But you can't tell anyone – especially not Daniel. I haven't told him yet."

"Oh ok. Whoops! Sorry, my thumbs just seem to have a mind of their own," he fake apologized as he sent a mass email from his Blackberry.

"_Marc!_" she protested and immediately ran as fast as she could in her stilettos to Daniel's office.

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"Say 'Hi' to Robby Pattinson for me," Daniel coldly stated as Betty rushed into his office to do damage control, knowing shortening names of celebrities he'd never even met bugged the crap out of her.

She was beyond pissed with him, right now. But Hilda had convinced her that he at least deserved to find out before anyone else did. Betty felt like breaking Marc's damn texting thumbs.

"Daniel . . ." Betty wasn't sure what to say.

"No, it's fine – really – my girlfriend took a job in another country and I'm the last one to know. It's great. I mean, at least I know how little I mean to you," he said sarcastically.

"Oh come on Daniel, don't give me that B.S.!" she snapped.

"How _could you_, Betty? You left me at the reception looking all over for you, like an idiot!" he paced around, angrily flailing his hands in the air. "And then you wouldn't answer any of my calls or texts the rest of the weekend. I went by your family's house and they said you weren't there. I called I don't know how many hotels; trying to figure out where you were . . . I thought we were a team? Why are you shutting me out?"

"Don't you _dare_ pretend to be crushed I'm leaving! I know you've still got a thing for Amanda! You were just waiting for her to come crawling back to you – I was just her temporary replacement!" she retorted.

Her words startled him and cut like a knife.

"What the hell are you talking about? I told you when we got together there was nothing between me and Amanda but mindless sex," Daniel tried to figure out why his world was now spinning upside down, when he thought everything was finally coming together in his life.

Betty cynically laughed.

"Right . . . well _that's_ the key word . . . I wouldn't put-out and you couldn't possibly wait just a couple more hours to bang _someone_. Wait - you were secretly sleeping with her before then, weren't you? _That's_ why you were so patient with me! _God!_ How could I have been so blind? I should've known you hadn't changed - you'll always be a man-whore!" Betty callously retorted, having a feeling she had gone too far, but unable to control herself.

She was hurt and wanted him to feel as much pain as she did. She felt the tears welling up in her eyes and frantically blinked them back. There was no way in hell she wanted him to know how much this was killing her.

Daniel choked back tears. He couldn't believe she'd think that. After all that they'd been through; all that she'd done to make him realize he needed to change, that he didn't want to be that guy anymore.

"If you believe that, you don't know me at all - I'm not even sure you ever knew me," his voice cracked. It couldn't feel any worse if she had ripped his heart out and stomped on it and everything they had come to be.

Betty stood in silence, half wanting to hold him and tell him she didn't mean it, the other wanting to feel nothing but satisfaction from knowing she had struck a nerve. He startled her out of her debate.

"Just get the hell out! I can't even stand to look at you right now!" he shouted.

He couldn't contain the flood much longer and needed her gone. He had only uttered those words to her once before, and they didn't feel any less hurtful now than they had then.

Her stomach plummeted – this was it – it was really over. Why she still cared, she wasn't sure. After all, _he_ was the one who cheated. _He_ was the one who didn't even have the guts to look her in the eye and tell her. He denied everything. _Screw him!_

"Fine! Sign these release papers and you won't ever have to see me again!" Betty shouted; a combination of anger, frustration and sadness coming out of her mouth.

She slammed the papers on his desk and stormed out. As her back turned, he studied her figure, knowing it probably really was the last time he would lay his eyes on her. As she walked out with tears streaming down her face, she noticed the mob crowded around the door and the glass wall, eagerly waiting to get an inside scoop of the end of their boss' affair with his former assistant. She knew there was one thing about this place she would never miss – privacy.

Daniel glanced at a snapshot taken of them at an after-party the past week. He remembered Hilda's wedding – they were so happy; he really felt like a part of her family; she was so beautiful, so poised; he wanted to hold her in his arms and dance to the music forever. Hilda's words at the reception reaffirmed that feeling that had been buried deep down for a while – he didn't just love her – he was _in_ love with her.

He wanted to marry her. He was waiting for the right moment to tell her . . . and now everything was shot to hell. He threw the picture against the side wall then sat down on the chaise with his head in his hands, finally letting the tears flow.

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A week had gone by and neither one of them had made an effort to smooth things over. Yet Daniel still couldn't bring himself to cut the last tie he had with Betty, the one tie that had brought them together four years ago and ended up changing his world for the better. No matter how bad things were right then, he knew if he kept her there, they'd eventually be able to work things out.

Plus, part of him just wanted to piss her off for not telling him sooner, not discussing it with him first. How could she just make a decision like that without him? He didn't care how upset she was with him, even though for the life of him he couldn't figure out why. They were in a committed relationship and he should at least have some input in a decision as big as this. Hell, she gave him more say when he was just her boss and friend than she had given him now that they were more.

He paged her to his office. When he saw her approach his open door, he held up her forms and took a lighter to them as she watched in horror and disbelief. The whole moment would've been perfect if only he had remembered he couldn't just stand there with a smug face and forget about the growing flame in his hand.

Daniel frantically tried to get what was left of the papers into his trashcan but was too late not to end up burning his hand and injuring his leg and foot in front of not only Betty, but an on-looking crowd of employees.

Betty couldn't believe Daniel had the gall to do this to her - to keep her here against her will, knowing his affair with Amanda left her with nothing to stay for. To crush her dream of being in charge of her own magazine. But as she watched the flames grow closer to his hands, him struggle not to burn down himself or his office in front of an entranced group of employees, she knew he had caused himself to suffer in a way. Despite everything, all she could think about now was making sure he wasn't seriously hurt.

"Oh, baby, are you okay?" she blurted out without even thinking as she ran towards him, catching him before he lost his balance.

"Son of a _bitch! _. . . I'm fine!" he snapped, grudgingly glaring at her while a throbbing feeling shot through his foot. What the hell did she care, anyway? He held his hand, writhing in pain."Ow! _Damn it!_"

"No, you're not 'fine'. Here," she gained her composure and awkwardly looked at him as she gently leaned him against his desk and quickly brought over his chair, sitting him down before she grabbed another one to prop up his feet. "I'm going to go get a First Aid kit and some ice – don't move!"

She rushed off, coming back a few minutes later. There was awkward silence while Betty prepared the wrap for his hand.

"Daniel, what were you thinking? Do you know how dangerous that was? You could've been hurt much worse and possibly have burned down your office!" she quietly scolded him, wrapping the bandage around his hand.

"It looked a lot cooler in my head – something out of a movie, you know?" he answered sheepishly.

"Yeah well, next time hire a stuntman," she joked.

"I'll remember that," he weakly smiled.

After a pregnant pause, Betty spoke.

"I need those papers by tomorrow . . . Do you hate me that much to try and keep me here against my will? . . . To torture me, knowing I don't have anything to stay for anymore?" she asked.

"You didn't talk to me about leaving – I had to read it in a mass email. And this magazine has invested too much in you to send you off to another major publishing company without some serious thought," he answered, avoiding her questions.

"Damn it, Daniel – you slept with Amanda! I didn't think it really mattered to you what I did or where I went!" she shouted, slapping the scissors down on his desk.

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about!" he yelled back.

"_God!_ If you don't even have the balls to admit you were screwing that slut, then I have no ounce of sympathy left for you!" Betty exclaimed, fighting back tears.

She slammed the kit in his injured hand and ran out the door.

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"Our insurance rates are going to skyrocket if you don't cool it with the pyrotechnics," Claire entered Daniel's office to find him with his head buried in his desk.

"Mom?" his head shot up.

"Is everything alright, dear?" she asked, concerned.

"It's Betty. She's leaving and I don't get why. Things were great between us . . . then all of a sudden she started shutting me out, avoiding me. She didn't even talk to me about taking that job or moving to London! We've always talked about stuff like that. I had more of a right to be included this time than all those times before. And now she's claiming I slept with Amanda – that was ages ago, before we were together. Why would that bug her now?" he let it all come out.

"I think she knew how you would react, if she told you, and couldn't bring herself to face you," Claire commented. "Perhaps her out-of-the-blue reaction to your past was a desperate attempt to push you away and make it easier for her to let you go. If you were upset with each other, she wouldn't feel as bad about leaving you."

"But Mom, I've always been supportive and understanding of Betty's career moves," he defended himself.

"True as that may be, your actions this time proved different, and I think Betty knew they would. You both have grown closer to each other. Things aren't like they used to be. A weekly postcard or a visit on holidays wouldn't suffice – not that either one of you could ever stay away from each other in the past, when Betty wasn't working for you," Claire observed.

Daniel gave a bittersweet smile.

"Betty is 'The One', isn't she?" Claire asked.

Daniel silently lowered his head.

"I've never seen you this way with any other woman. It isn't about the chase or jealousy. And it isn't pertaining to charity or guilt or obligation. Betty is special to you. I could see it coming years ago – that magnetic force that connects you to each other - no matter who else is a part of your lives at the time or how badly you've hurt one another. You complete each other and aren't the same when you're apart," she continued.

". . . You're right. I'm in love with her, Mom. I've never felt anything like it before. But she's leaving – she doesn't want anything to do with me," he reluctantly confessed, not wanting to feel those feelings, knowing it was useless doing so. Now that he had said it out loud, it made it all the more real and all the more painful.

"Then you need to give her a reason to stay, before it's too late," Claire advised.

Daniel sighed, running his hand through his hair and over his face. He had to keep her there – and this time, willingly.


	10. Chapter 10

_Thank you, again, for reading and commenting - it's much loved, as always! As for the next chapter, things might get a little better for our couple . . . Enjoy! :)_

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"Heeey, Betty – you'll never guess –" Amanda excitedly ran up to Betty, in the lobby. "You know what, Amanda? I don't care. I'm sick of your little act. You claim you're happy for me, you're all supportive of me and Daniel, and then you go after him when you still have Tyler? _I thought you were my friend!_ Turns out you're just a selfish, back-stabbing, two-faced slut!" Betty didn't even give her the chance to explain before storming toward her office.

"Did you just have a giant margarita? What do you mean? I _am_ your friend – I didn't go after Daniel – I'm with his brother. And I do _not_ have two heads!" she shouted as Betty went through the tube. People turned to look at her. "Oh my god! Do I?" she frantically ran to the ladies room to check.

"What's with you? _Awww_ . . . did Willie make you use more of that horrible cream again?" Marc asked as Betty walked through the door, red-faced with anger. "No, Marc. And _you're_ not my favorite person right now, either," she huffed. "Not that I care, but why?" he asked. "Um . . . let's see . . . I told you in secrecy that I was taking a job in London. I begged you not to tell Daniel and what do you do? You send a mass email to everyone! Now _why_ would that piss me off . . .?" Betty sarcastically snapped.

"Okay, stop it - the Snarky Betty thing is scaring me. Let's go back to Peppy Betty – the one we all know and love to make fun of, k?" Marc brushed off her irritation with him.

"_Damn it, Marc!_ I've had it with both of you! I try to be nice, I try to be friends with you, listen to your problems, help you out - but all I get in return is betrayal. _You_ tell everyone in the world my secrets after I begged you not to and _Amanda_ acts like she's my friend while she's been sleeping with Daniel the whole time and they both deny it! I can't wait to get out of this place - you can't trust anyone around here!" Betty ranted.

"Betty, if you're talking about Hilda's wedding, Mandy was –" Marc began, in a more understanding tone. "Mandy was what - just being Mandy, right? Because that's what she does? I don't wanna hear it, okay! I get that you two stick up for each other – it's what Daniel and I always . . ."she trailed off, taking a deep breath and holding back tears.

"Never mind . . . could you please leave me alone?" she asked him, tired of fighting, and remembering how things were. "Sure. It's late – I'm gonna go home . . . For what it's worth, I'm sorry," Marc told her and quietly left. Betty silently nodded.

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Daniel had spent the rest of the day mustering up the courage to go to her office. It was late, but he still saw her light on. He paced back and forth one last time before charging over, knowing it was then or never. "Betty, I need to speak with you," he began, noticing Marc had left for the day, pulling up a chair.

"What do you want, Daniel?" she snapped, then continued to concentrate on her piece for the next issue. "Look at me," he demanded, turning her head to face him. "I – I can't live without you," he confessed. "I don't believe this . . . Just save it, Daniel! Okay?" she scoffed and got up. "No! Listen to me!" he insisted, as he stood up with her and grabbed her arm, their lips inches apart.

"I know what you're trying to do and it's not gonna work. You can't push me away that easily," he grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her with everything he had in him. Betty felt her knees caving in. What was it about this man that made her succumb to temptation . . . made her heart race every time he came close . . . made her melt with every sweet gesture or words he said? But he didn't really want her – he wanted someone else. She forced herself to break away.

"W-what are you talking about?" she snapped herself out of it. "You've been sleeping with Amanda. Why the hell would you care about me – aside from wanting your cake and eating it too," she retorted. "What? You mean _had_ been sleeping with Amanda – before we were together," he corrected.

"No . . . I saw you with her at the reception," she said. "When?" he asked and sat on her desk, confused. "I went to help Hilda in the bathroom and I came back and saw Amanda rubbing her slutty hands all over you - and you were grinning," she explained. "_That?_ You came to the conclusion I was sleeping with her again because of _that_?" he scoffed.

"Betty, Amanda had had a fight with Tyler. She got drunk out of her mind and was desperate for any man's attention. If Marc hadn't been off with that weird-haired older client of hers, she would've been all over _him_ a lot sooner. _That's_ why I was laughing. Tyler even thought it was funny. You can ask him, if you want. But I promise you - you have nothing to worry about," Daniel insisted. Betty nodded, embarrassed she had made such a big deal out of nothing.

"Why didn't you tell me that's what was bothering you?" he wondered. "I don't know . . . I saw you two together and – and – my heart sunk and my stomach plummeted . . . so I ran off and I called Mr. Dunne and told him I'd take the job after all . . . because I knew I couldn't stay here any longer and at least I'd have something good and meaningful to throw myself into; if I didn't have you, at least I'd have my dream job," she admitted.

"You really want this, don't you?" he asked. She paused. "Not as much as I want you," she answered. "Baby . . ." he tried to stop her. "No!" Betty gently placed her hand on his chest. "There will be other job opportunities in the future – maybe even some closer to home," she insisted, cupping his face with her hands.

"But there will never be another you," she reasoned and sweetly kissed his lips. Daniel sunk his lips deeper into hers and pulled her body onto him, leaning back on her desk. Papers and pens flew everywhere and her computer monitor almost tipped over, but Daniel noticed it out of the corner of his eye just in time. He gently pushed her off of him.

"Come on. Let's go home," he suggested. "Whose home?" she breathlessly asked. "Yours – it's closer with the construction near mine," he answered, kissing her neck as they stumbled out of her office and made their way to the elevator, then into the town car.

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"That was the longest car ride _ever_!" Daniel, pressed against Betty's back, whispered in her ear, as Betty fumbled with the lock to her apartment. "I know," she agreed as she shoved the door open, flipped on the lights, dropped her bag on the floor, and kicked off her stilettos. Daniel closely followed, throwing his suit jacket down and securing the door behind them. He removed his shoes and socks, but struggled taking off his tie, with only the full use of one hand.

Betty noticed and they both smiled. She hurriedly untied it, then ripped out his shirt from his pants and unbuttoned it, sliding it off his shoulders as they moved closer to her bedroom. Daniel captured her lips as she ran her fingers over his well-toned chest. She kissed her way down to his waist and swiftly removed his belt.

He cupped her face and drew her eyes back up to his, seductively teasing her lips with his tongue, guiding his hands down her back and over her ass. He planted kisses on her neck and moved behind her, unzipping her dress, making another trail of kisses up her back and over the front of her shoulder. Betty reached for the hall light switch and turned it off.

Daniel turned it back on, staring sinfully at her. He slowly slid the straps of her dress down her arms, letting the garment drop to the floor. Betty self-consciously covered herself with her arms, afraid to let her practically naked, more-than stick figured body be revealed. "No - baby don't. Let me look at you," Daniel requested, gently removing her arms from her stomach and breasts.

She nervously looked down at the floor, then back at him, as he backed away to get a full view. He stared at her in awe. Despite all of the models he'd been with, Daniel had never seen a more gorgeous woman until now. Those models were so thin, sometimes he thought their bones would break just from walking. But Betty was so healthy, with incredible curves in all the right places.

She was amazing – inside and out. He couldn't love her any more than he did at this very moment and felt his mouth form a goofy grin. This usually confident woman stood before him so vulnerable, having no idea of the effect she had on him - how indescribably sexy she truly was. Betty felt all of her insecurities kick in as she waited what seemed like a lifetime as Daniel gazed at all of her imperfections.

"This was a mistake –" she said and frantically looked for her dress – anything to cover herself up. "Hey . . . what's wrong?" he wondered, gently grabbing her arm. She could barely look at him, a tear starting to trickle down her cheek. Daniel wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. "I – I'm not what you want . . . I could tell by the way you just looked at me. I'm not a model – I'm not a stick - I'm not what you're used to," she sniffed.

"No . . . you're not," he lifted up her chin. "You're much better. You're beautiful, Betty. Don't you know that by now? You're perfect . . . you're everything I could ever want or need," he confessed and brought her hand to his lips. "Really?" she coyly looked up at him. "Really," he assured her.

Betty caressed his face and tenderly kissed him, a few more beads of water falling from her eyes. It was the sweetest thing any man had ever said to her and she could feel he really meant it. As she broke from his lips, she looked at him expectantly. Daniel caught the droplets with his lips, tasting the salt on his tongue, then started to pick her up.

"Babe, wait – your hand," she reminded him. "Shh . . . It's okay," he assured her, using his good hand to hold the majority of the weight, carrying her into the bedroom. He gently laid her down, before removing his pants and slowly crawling on top of her. As he fingered the strap on her bra, he hesitated. "Are you sure about this?" he asked, not wanting to push her into anything after what just happened. She nodded as she took off her glasses and pulled him closer, making love to him into the night.

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Betty felt Daniel's arm wrapped around her waist, his strong, muscular body spooning against her smaller frame. His chin rubbed against her shoulder as he sleepily stirred, his warm breath tickling her neck. "Are you awake?" she whispered, noticing it was midnight. "Yeah . . . you wanna –" Daniel started in as he pulled her on top of him.

"No . . ." Betty squealed. "But I can see _you_ do . . ." she kissed his nose. He rolled on top of her. "Well, when you're looking at what I'm looking at . . ." he lifted the sheet that covered them and gave her naked figure a thorough once-over. "Who can blame me for never getting enough . . .?" he seductively teased her lower lip and gave her a boyish grin.

"Daniel . . ." she giggled. "What?" he contentedly asked. "Nothing," she happily sighed. "I'm just glad we got to this point. I don't know why I was fighting it – I just was so afraid of not living up to all the past women, that this would change everything . . . I hope you're not just humoring me?" she timidly questioned him. Daniel couldn't believe she still wasn't convinced. Had he said or done something that night to make her think any differently?

Noticing his hesitation, Betty realized he might be. She slid out from under him and back onto her side of the bed, pulling the sheets closer to her bare body, suddenly feeling uncomfortably exposed again. "Baby, why would you ever think that?" Daniel turned on his side to face her. "I wasn't joking when I said I couldn't get enough of you. I didn't do the fake smile and the thumbs up, did I?" he pointed out and demonstrated. Betty shook her head, the corners of her mouth forming a smile.

"But you're right – it does change everything . . ." he looked at her, toying with a strand of her hair. She held her breath. "I've never wanted anyone more . . . You take me to a different level . . . you can read my mind and I can read yours . . . I've never had a connection like this with anyone - where we fit together in every part of our relationship. You're perfect for me," he confessed, taking her hand.

"And you're perfect for me, too," she smiled, squeezing his hand back. ". . . I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions and shutting you out. And I'm sorry I was going to take the job in London without even talking to you. No matter how mad I was, it wasn't right. I screwed up," she apologized, caressing his cheek.

"It's okay. Don't worry about it – just do me a favor and don't run away next time. You can always talk to me, you know that," he assured her. She nodded shyly. "How's your hand?" she asked, concerned. "It's better now that I have you back – I told you, you drive me crazy," he teased. She grinned and rolled her eyes. A long pause followed.

Betty stared at him in amazement, feeling so relieved and lucky to still have him in her life. Daniel laid on his back, contemplating even saying anything about their uncertain future right then. ". . . Betty?" Daniel asked, turned on his side. "Yeah, babe?" she answered, absently tracing her fingers along his chest. "I don't mean to ruin the moment, but are you sure about turning down that job?" he wondered.

"Positive. I'm not going . . . I wasn't ever really considering it until I misread what happened at the reception. I could never leave you – no matter how good the offer is," she insisted, and sweetly kissed his lips. Daniel suddenly felt an uneasy feeling creep up on him, but didn't allow it to show. It had finally sunk in how much Betty was sacrificing for him.

"Now, I don't know about you . . . but I'm starving! We never did get around to dinner, you know," she mentioned mischievously as she kissed his lips again, then rolled out from underneath the sheets, grabbing her robe. "Do you want anything? I think I have a bag of potato chips and a pint of cookie dough ice cream," she offered before she went to the kitchen. "Sure. Just bring 'em both," he answered, faking a smile. After she left, he ran his hand over his face. What had he done?


	11. Chapter 11

_Thanks for all the great comments - they're much appreciated! :) Here's the next chapter . . . I'm ducking for cover, lol. :P_

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Betty woke up in the morning and knew everything was different. She had a second chance with Daniel, and for the first time, she knew she was head-over-heels, crazy in love. She opened her eyes, expecting to find a gorgeous, sleeping Daniel beside her. Instead, the remaining space of the bed was bare. "Baby? Are you taking a shower without me . . .?" she smiled wickedly and got out of bed, putting on her robe as she checked the bathroom to no avail.

"Daniel?" she called, looking through the rest of her tiny apartment, finally coming across an envelope with her name on it taped to the coffeemaker. She nervously opened it up, hoping it was just a cute note that he had gone out to get breakfast for them, but deep down she had a sinking feeling that something was wrong. Her hands shook as she unfolded the pages:

_Dear Betty,_

_By now you've probably opened your beautiful brown eyes and realized I'm not there. I want you to know that last night and every second we've spent together means the world to me. I've fallen in love with you and can't imagine living a single day without you in my life. I could lie next to you and simply watch you breathe, forever. _

_But it came to me that I was being selfish. I can't let you sacrifice what you've worked so hard to achieve, just to be with me. You deserve more than that and I won't ever be the one to hold you back or shatter your dreams. _

_I know you probably don't believe me right now, but later on, I know you would end up regretting it and even resenting me for it. I don't ever want us to be like that. I want us to part on a good note and think only of the good memories. So go to London and live your dream. Be happy. Be the gorgeous, sweet, sassy, confident, successful, passionate, inspiring woman I know you are. Please don't try to find me – I won't be around until I know you have already gone. I love you, baby._

_Always,  
Daniel_

Tears ran down Betty's face as she read Daniel's words, dropping onto the paper, leaving the writing smeared and almost illegible after she had finished. She moved the letter behind to find additional pages - her release forms, already signed. Grasping the papers in her hands, she slid down against the cabinets onto her cold kitchen floor and began to sob.

Her constant crying became hysterical - to the point where all she could form were hiccups and she could hardly breathe. She heard a knock at the door. Had he changed his mind? She wiped her tears and brushed herself off before she eagerly answered the door. "Daniel?" she said hopefully. "Marc," she said as her heart sank.

"Hey . . . Princess Puffy," he said affectionately, knowing she was a wreck. "What are you doing here?" she asked, confused. "You woke me from my beauty sleep with all your howling - like a puppy who lost her Coach collar. So . . . I decided to go down to that pastry shop across the street and fatten you up on your favorite carb-filled treats," he shoved the box in her hands and made himself at home on the couch, taking the cups of coffee out of the carrier and placing them on coasters.

"Thank you. I'm sorry about yesterday," she sniffed and sat down beside him, taking a Danish. "I kinda like Bitchy Betty. It shows you're half-human," Marc smiled. Betty shook her head, knowing it was his own way of telling her they were okay. "Where's Amanda?" she wondered. "She's having breakfast with Disco Daddy," he replied. "I'm glad she finally found her father . . . I need to apologize to her," she said, holding the warm paper cup in her hand, sipping the coffee slowly.

"She's stopping by work later. But let's worry about you, right now - you're a mess!" Marc gestured to her tear-stained, blotchy face. "Thanks," Betty rolled her eyes. "Daniel told you, didn't he?" she asked. He nodded. "He wanted to make sure his Curvy Caterpillar was taken care of," Marc answered. "It hurts as much as my Botox injections to say this, but he really does love you, you know," he assured her.

"Then why did he leave me? I care about him more than I ever will care about any stupid job," she rhetorically asked. "I don't know . . . Maybe he thought he was doing the noble, Shakespeare thing – you know ''Tis a far, far, better thing that I do than I have ever done. . .'? Nah – he probably thinks Shakespeare's a new nickname for Britney," he cracked. A small smile began to form at the corners of Betty's mouth. "It's Dickens, actually," she corrected him, amused.

"Whatever . . . See, that's what I'm here for – to turn that mustache upside down," he smiled. "Thanks, Marc," she told him. "Pssh. Don't mention it! Now, can we get down to all the juicy things you hate about him?" Marc asked, eagerly. "I don't hate him at all, Marc – I – I 'm in love with him," Betty confessed as she started to cry again. "Oh, sweetie, come here," Marc gave her an awkward hug and tried to console her.

"How about we make a deal? You can love him all you want and I'll hate him for you, okay?" he half-joked. Betty sniffled, nodding as much as she could, with her head resting against Marc's chest. "You're not getting snot all over my Versace couture, are you?" he asked, turning his head toward hers. Betty looked as if she was going to burst into tears all over again. "Hey, I was kidding!" he assured her. "Well, sort of," he muttered incoherently.

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The next three weeks, Betty walked around MODE like a zombie - going through the motions but not really feeling anything but numbness. She went by Daniel's office, expecting to see him hunched over his desk, concentrating on the proofs for the next shoot, but all she saw was his empty chair. She didn't even get the chance to talk to him, to kiss him, to feel his touch before he was gone. He didn't give her a choice.

She should be furious with him but she didn't care about that if she could just see him again. She faxed over the papers to Mr. Dunne, at the last possible second, hoping Daniel would come back and stop her. He didn't – not once in all that time did he even attempt to contact her.

"Betty you have _got to stop!_" Hilda exclaimed confiscating the pan of double fudge brownies her sister held onto like a lifeline. "You've eaten half the pan! _And_ gone through an entire bag of potato chips – it's not even lunch yet!" Hilda ranted. "But I'm hungry!" Betty defended herself. "No, sweetie, you're not – you're depressed. And eating will not help you – believe me – all it does is make you even more depressed once you realize you're not only alone, but you've also gained twenty pounds," Hilda corrected her.

"I just – I miss him so much and he won't even talk to me – he just left . . ." Betty started to cry. "I know, I know. I still can't believe what he did to you. I swear, when I get my hands on him –" Hilda threatened. "Hilda, please. As angry as I am with him for leaving me like that . . . I still love him," Betty stopped her. "I just wish he would answer my calls – something! I'm beginning to think that even though he said he loved me that it's not true, that everything was an excuse to break up with me," Betty wondered.

"Betty, as much as I wanna hurt Daniel for hurting you, I don't think that. I really think he thought he was doing what's best for you," Hilda told her. "But it's not! How is leaving me helping me?" she wiped her eyes. "I don't know. But why don't you try and focus on the good things. You've got a great new job – _you_ get to be in charge and express your own ideas . . . You've got a great new city to live in and explore – and invite your sister to for _fun_ weekends . . ." Hilda nudged.

"Yeah, I guess . . . but it doesn't make up for not having Daniel . . . Uh-oh – I think I'm regretting those brownies . . ." Betty jumped up and ran to the bathroom, feeling the urge to throw-up.

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Betty muddled through to her last day at MODE, still holding out for Daniel to contact her. As a fun distraction, Amanda and Marc were throwing her a 'Goodbye' party at the office, even though she had to share it in memory of Halston. She tried to make the best of everything, to have a good time, but her mind kept wandering back to Daniel. She knew she needed to let him go, move on, but her heart wouldn't let her.

"Betty?" Claire approached her. "Mrs. Meade, I'm so glad you came!" Betty exclaimed as Claire gave her a hug. "Dear, I've reminded you before, please call me Claire," she kindly insisted. "Right. Sorry," Betty apologized. "Oh, I'm so proud of you!" Claire exclaimed. "Thank you! . . . Daniel's not coming, is he?" Betty asked. "I don't know, sweetheart. I haven't heard from him since we talked in his office three weeks ago," Claire answered.

"He hates me, doesn't he? He wouldn't have left me if he didn't . . ." Betty's voice wavered. "Oh no, darling . . . Daniel could never hate you! You are very special to him – more than I believe you realize. It may not seem like it right now, but he cares more deeply for you than any other woman he's been with. I know my son, and just like his father, he will come to his senses soon enough," Claire wisely assured her.

"But what if -?" Betty started to express her doubts, when Claire interrupted her. "Aahh – He _will_," Claire insisted. "Now go and pursue your dream - I'm positive you'll make everyone here proud to know London's newest and best female editor!" Claire offered her some more words of encouragement. "Thank you, Claire!" Betty sniffled and hugged her.

"Promise you'll call me once you get settled? I want to make sure you've arrived safely, dear," Claire requested. Betty smiled and nodded. "Now enjoy your party . . . and Betty?" Claire turned back around before leaving. "Fate will work everything thing out," Claire was certain. Betty weakly smiled, hoping Claire's instincts were right.

Near the end of the party, Betty tried one last time to get in touch with Daniel – she'd called his cell phone so many times before, just to hear his voice on the message prompt. She left a final, desperate plea on his phone, hoping he'd show up at her party and tell her he made a mistake.

"Hey, Daniel - it's Betty . . . like you wouldn't know that after the 200 messages I've left you . . ." she nervously said, holding back tears. "Umm . . . It's my 'Going Away' party and you're still not here . . . I guess you really meant it when you said you wouldn't show up until I left the country," her voice cracked as she rambled on.

"I wish you were here - that I could at least say 'Goodbye' to you in person . . . but I guess you're not coming . . . I can't believe this is it . . . umm . . ." she sniffled. "I can't even put into words how much you mean to me . . . there's so much I want to say . . . so many things I want to tell you in person . . . I'd give anything for you to come back . . . even pick up your phone . . . but that's not going to happen, is it? . . . Okay . . . Goodbye, Daniel," she hung up and began to wipe the tears from her eyes.

"You do have two bosses, you know," Wilhelmina snuck up behind Betty, startling her. "I wasn't elated to be informed by a mass email either – and _I'm_ not even sleeping with you," she spoke. "I - I'm sorry – Marc didn't give me a chance to properly inform –" Betty defended herself. "Never mind Marc!" she scoffed.

"You've got big balls, Betty Suarez - working your way up the ladder in this magazine, only to throw it all away. I can't imagine what Daniel's going through right now and I don't even like him . . . But if he let you go, however twisted his reasoning may be, he thinks he's doing the right thing. Take it from my experience – men are noble dumbasses – but you can't help but love them anyway," she took a swig of champagne.

"Now dry those crybaby tears before they stain your almost-stylish ensemble and hold your head up high! A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do to be successful!" she snapped. ". . . And the rest will fall into place . . . if the timing and the man is right," Wilhelmina assured her with an awkward, brief hand on Betty's shoulder before she started to leave.

"Wilhelmina?" Betty stopped her. "What is it, Betty?" she turned around. "Thank you," Betty said. "Don't mention it," she reluctantly replied. Betty smiled. "No – I'm serious, Suarez. You breathe one word of this conversation to _anyone_ and I swear I'll deny it - even on my deathbed!" she warned and curtly turned away.

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Meanwhile, Daniel was hiding out in his family's vacation home in The Hamptons. Listening to her messages made him cry, so he got drunk, threw a few things, did everything he could to stop the pain, then began the cycle all over again. He needed to forget about her. She would be better off without him.

He went over and over it in his mind, trying to convince himself that he was doing the right thing by letting her go - by allowing her to move on with her life and fulfill her dream . . . letting her be the woman she aspired to be when she first crashed into the conference room at MODE, four years ago.

Come to think of it, she had inspired him to make more of himself, to want to be successful in something other than banging women and chugging booze. He was thrown into his job because his father was tired of him being a screw-up and throwing away his inheritance. But Betty had struggled from the bottom, making her way to his high-powered position in only four years.

Sure, she too was hired by his father and not because she was fashion savvy. But she had accomplished so much in that short period of time she had worked there, proven herself worthy of her positions. She deserved this opportunity and who was he to stand in her way?

If he loved her at all, he needed to let her go, right? Why didn't he feel better about it, then? He thought harder about his own job. Sure, he liked it and with Betty's help along the way had pushed himself to be good at it. But it was never something that he had always wanted to do.

Honestly he wasn't sure what that was anymore, except he wanted to achieve it on his own merits instead of riding in on his father's coat tails and flashing the family name and fortune around. Maybe it was time for him to make a new start as well . . . Maybe he didn't have to let Betty go . . . maybe he could go to her . . . He threw the now empty beer can on the floor and rushed to pack his things and call a car to the airport.

On his way, he frantically called Hilda. "Hi Hilda, it's Daniel –" he began. "Well it's about damn time you called, you big jackass! I oughtta rip off your cojones and throw them to the dogs. Why the hell aren't you talking to my sister? Do you know she's been bawling her eyes out for three weeks straight? You've got a lot of nerve –" Hilda defended Betty.

"Hilda, please! Just hear me out – I only have a few minutes –" he pleaded. "_Ohhh . . ._ _You_ only have a few minutes. Well, _go ahead_, by all means _talk_. God forbid I inconvenience His Royal Highness!" she mocked. "I'm in love with her," Daniel confessed, desperate for her to listen to him. "I know – you wrote it in your god damned sob-fest of a letter. But I don't buy it!" she shouted. "Hilda, you've got to believe me! I'm serious!" he begged.

"You say you _love_ her? Then explain to me how you can sit there in your plush Malibu mansion or wherever the hell you are while Betty is a complete wreck? She cries herself hoarse, she can't sleep . . . and if she wasn't spending the other half of her time puking her guts out, I'd swear she's gonna gain twenty pounds if she doesn't lay off the food!" Hilda rants.

"Fries, sour cream and onion potato chips, and double fudge brownies?" he said, knowingly. "You _do_ love her, don't you?" Hilda softened. "More than anything," he admitted, his voice cracking. She sighed. "Okay, against my better judgment, what do you want? But I swear to god if you hurt her again I will kick your sorry freakin' ass to the equator!" she threatened.

"Duly noted. Please, just tell me her flight number, when she's leaving, and what time she's getting in?" he asked, looking at his watch as the car approached the airport drop off. When he finally got on the Meade jet, he tried to think of what he was going to say to her. He was never good at these things. All he knew was that it was the only chance he had left.


	12. Chapter 12

_Thank you for reading and for all the wonderful reviews! :)_

_sniffles1983, I'm still debating whether to keep going with this story or to end it within the next few chapters. (Thoughts/comments on this are welcome from everyone.) As for "One Last Night", I definitely plan on finishing it - I just hit a road block on how to proceed. I'll probably continue it within the next week or two. I'm so glad you like it, as well! :)_

_Now, on to the next chapter. I'm thinking you'll be happier with me this time - or maybe not . . . Enjoy! :)_

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Betty walked into a practically empty Heathrow after a long and tiring late flight from New York. Part of her was really excited to start her new job and begin exploring a different country, but the majority of her was scared to death of being all alone in an unfamiliar place. _God_, she missed him so much . . . but she couldn't dwell on it any longer.

No matter how badly she wanted - _needed_ - Daniel to be in her life, she knew it was hopeless. She headed straight for the baggage claim and waited while her bag came through the carousel. She noticed it and attempted to lift the enormous duffel bag onto the floor without much luck. "Need some help?" a familiar voice behind her asked.

It couldn't be – could it? She had to be delusional from the jet lag and massive lack of sleep from staying up the entire night before. She curiously turned around, only to lay her eyes upon the brown-haired, blue-eyed man she knew and loved. "Daniel?" Betty asked, slowly touching his arm to make sure she wasn't hallucinating.

"Hey," was all Daniel managed to get out before Betty immediately wrapped her arms around him in a warm and loving embrace, so overcome with emotion she nearly knocked him over, afraid of letting go. Daniel slightly pulled away, enough to tenderly kiss her forehead. He slowly brought his head down to meet hers, their foreheads touching, eyes meeting each other's. "How did you – what are you –?" Betty tried to speak, a million thoughts racing through her mind.

Daniel put two fingers to her lips. "Shh . . . it doesn't matter right now. I'm here - and I'm not going anywhere . . . Unless you want me to?" Daniel saw the tears brimming in Betty's eyes and made sure he wasn't reading her wrong. Betty shook her head and smiled, tears of joy streaming down her face. Daniel grinned, tears welling up in his eyes as well. He slowly kissed away the salty droplets on her cheeks, then captured her lips with his as if it had been a lifetime since he had seen her.

"I'm sorry, baby . . . I'm so sorry . . ." Daniel said between shorter, apologetic kisses. "I'm sorry, too," Betty told him as she kissed the corner of his mouth, then his cheek. Daniel pulled her into him, resting his chin on the top of her head. They stood there silent, clinging to each other as a form of forgiveness and relief. Daniel absently stroked Betty's hair. Betty gradually broke away.

"I – I love you," she timidly confessed. "I love you, too," Daniel smiled. As her forgotten bag continued to rotate on the carousel behind them, Betty brought Daniel in for another passionate kiss; this one feeling different, freer, as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders simply by saying those three little words and hearing him say them back.

They both knew things weren't always going to be easy. They had a long road ahead of them - questions left unanswered, uncertainties of their future. But as long as they were together, they knew they could make it through anything.

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Betty lay in bed and watched Daniel sleep, his sandy brown hair disheveled as he lay on his side, his breath barely audible as his bare chest rose out and in again, his body occasionally stirring when lost in a dream, the look on his face so peaceful and content, almost childlike. He was right – it was addictive when with the right person. "Morning," Daniel slowly opened his eyes. "Morning – afternoon actually," she greeted him, remembering they were on London time and it was now 12:20PM.

"What are you doing?" he asked. "Nothing . . . just trying something out . . ." she answered, coyly. "Really? What's that?" he asked, intrigued. "Someone once told me they could watch the one they loved sleep, all day," she replied. "And?" he waited for her to finish. "And they were right . . ." she answered. "Good. But once they're both awake, what then?" he mischievously inquired.

"I don't know. But I'm sure I could come up with a few inventive ideas . . ." she slyly suggested as she kissed his chest and straddled him. "Whoa! You're really feisty this morning," he chuckled, slowly kissing her shoulder. "I can't help it . . . for the first time in weeks I'm happy," she confessed. "Good," Daniel caressed her cheek. "That's all I want," he admitted, pulling her into an embrace.

"Are you happy?" Betty kissed his collarbone, then turned her head to face him. "And tell me the truth, because I want this to work . . . Are you really okay with giving up MODE and starting over? This goes both ways – I don't want you to resent me either. If you have any regrets just tell me. I don't want you to look back and wish you had never left," she told him, stroking his untamed hair.

"No - as hard as it was deciding to give up my cushy job and try to make it on my own, I don't have any regrets about it. My only regret was leaving you. It killed me inside. I couldn't stand hurting you like that. But I knew if I stayed, you'd never take this job and would be too selfless to ask me to go with you," he admitted. She timidly smiled – he knew her too well.

"Where did you run off to?" she asked. "My parents' house in The Hamptons. I needed to escape, clear my head, try to get you out of my mind – but I couldn't, because no matter where I go or how hard I try to fight it, you'll always have my heart," he absently toyed with a strand of her hair.

"And suddenly it hit me that I didn't need to push you away – I could still be with you without standing in the way of your dreams. And I could pursue my own dreams as well. I can honestly say that I am truly happy, Betty," he told her.

"I want nothing more than a fresh start in life, where I can be with you and figure out what I really want to do without someone handing me a job on a silver platter . . . I want this – right here, right now – forever," Daniel admitted, caressing her cheek. "Me, too," Betty agreed and passionately kissed his lips. He gently rolled her over and began to kiss every inch of her body all over again.

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A few hours later, Daniel slowly rubbed his eyes and reached for Betty but felt nothing but empty sheets. His heart stopped. "Betty?" he called. _Oh god!_ It was all a dream – she was gone. "I'm over here," she answered, staring out the window of his hotel suite, wearing his black lightweight sweater. Daniel breathed a sigh of relief. "_God_, baby I thought I'd lost you!" he came up behind her wearing his black jeans, wrapping his arms around her as he planted a loving kiss on her neck.

"Now you know how it feels," she replied half-joking, without even thinking. She clapped her hand over her mouth and quickly turned to face him. "I – I'm sorry. It just slipped out – I love you and I know you were trying to do the right thing . . . It's just I was in this state of bliss: we had just made up, made love for the first time . . . I thought our lives were only going to get better . . ." she apologized.

" . . . I woke up and the first thing I wanted to do was tell you I had fallen in love with you . . . but you weren't there - I didn't even get the chance to say 'goodbye' . . . " her eyes welled-up, and her chin quivered, remembering. "Hey . . . it's okay. I know I hurt you – we hurt each other. But it's over now. We're together, right? And I'm never going anywhere without you, again," he assured her, stroking her hair as she quietly cried into his chest.

"I know – and in my heart, I believe you . . . in my head – I can't help going back there again . . . I've never hurt so much over losing someone like that before . . ." she sniffled. "Not even with . . .?" Daniel asked. "No – not even with Henry. You know the whole burying ritual thing we did?" she remembered, drying her eyes.

"Yeah," he gave her an inquisitive look. "It wouldn't have helped with you . . . it wasn't about petty material things or unrealistic fantasies . . . I've grown up and none of that truly matters. What I lost with you was so much deeper than that – it was like I lost a part of myself - like I couldn't breathe," she confessed.

"I felt the same way the whole time – like there was this void inside me. I couldn't stop thinking about anything but the sound of your voice . . . your smile . . . your laugh . . . the smell of your skin . . . the taste of your lips . . ." he lightly traced a single finger across her jawline and down her lips. ". . . The way you felt in my arms . . . just being in the same room . . . everything about you," he ran his hands down her arms and met her hands with his.

"I missed being able to talk to you – about . . . anything. I listened to your messages over and over again – it took everything in me not to pick up the phone and tell you not to go, to go back home and tell you I needed you to stay," he revealed, pressing his forehead against hers. "I never want to feel that way again - I _can't_!" Betty pulled away from him and faced the window again.

"I – I don't know if we should be doing this . . ." she hesitated as she watched the tiny cars and people pass by, debating on whether she should just let it go for now. But her fears wouldn't allow her to just shove everything under the rug again. "What?" Daniel was thoroughly confused. "_This!_ Us – _again_ . . ." she turned around.

"I jumped to conclusions and disappeared on you over nothing – you left me without even talking to me first . . . What happens if something else comes up?" she worried. Daniel sighed. "Yeah, as good as we are at talking, we really suck at communicating stuff like that," he mused, agreeing with her. She gave him a bittersweet smile and gazed down at the floor before timidly looking into his eyes.

"So . . . what do we do?" she wondered, not wanting to end it then but at the same time not wanting it to end farther down the road when she was in even deeper than she already was. "We work it out, are open about everything. If you have any doubts about something – tell me. Don't run away. And I promise I'll do the same," he answered, hoping it was enough to convince her. He didn't know what he'd do if he had to live without her again.

"You won't pull another chivalrous act, claiming it's what best for me?" she asked. "No, I won't. I realize now that I wasn't helping you or me at all. I was a dumbass thinking that would make anything better," he admitted. She smirked in agreement. "Look, I love you. There's no one else who I'd rather grow old with – have kids and grandkids, sit in our rockers holding hands . . . laughing, bickering, talking about the old days," he admitted. "Bickering?" she skeptically asked, amused.

"Come on, you know how feisty and passionate you are . . ." he smiled. "And how stubborn you are . . .?" she added, smiling knowingly. "Just . . . let me finish here, okay?" he chuckled and brushed his lips against her nose.

"In fact, there's something I've been meaning to ask you," Daniel pulled out a light teal blue Tiffany box from his pocket and knelt on one knee, taking her hand in his. "Betty Suarez, would you do me the honor of being my wife?" he nervously asked, as he opened the box to reveal an intricate 3 karat 3-stone platinum diamond ring, the band having slightly eye-shaped slits on each side, forming a double-band with smaller diamonds covering it. Betty was speechless.

"Amanda helped me with the final decision. I would have gotten you the biggest diamond in the world, but I knew you'd want something unique, yet simple. Only she insisted that '_Every girl wants to show off some major bling!_'" he explained, mocking Amanda's voice. "So I hope it's not too much . . .?" he anxiously awaited some form of response. "Daniel, it's stunning . . . I've never seen anything like it before!" she finally found her voice again. "Just like you," he softly said, running his thumb across the top of her hand.

"So . . .?" he held his breath for an answer. "Oh!" she exclaimed, realizing she never gave him a coherent response. "Yes! . . . Yes, I will marry you, Daniel," she beamed, her eyes sparkling with happiness. Daniel carefully slid the ring on her finger and stood up. Betty exuberantly jumped into his waiting arms. He grinned as he picked her up, spinning her around before placing her on her feet again and drawing her into a fervent, spellbinding kiss.

Betty felt herself pull away and struggled to keep her balance. She held onto Daniel's shoulders to steady herself. "Are you okay?" Daniel asked, concerned. "Yeah, fine. I just felt a little light-headed for a minute. It's nothing – probably just from all the excitement," she brushed it off. "Are you sure we don't need to find you a doctor?" he questioned, still unconvinced.

"Positive. Oh! My boxes from home are supposed to arrive today and there's a lot of unpacking to do before I start my first day of work on Monday, so I'm going to go get ready. You'll help me, right?" she asked. "Sure . . . warm up the water in the shower and I'll meet you there . . ." he devilishly smiled, leaning in to kiss her. Betty stopped him. "That's not what I meant and you know it," she scolded him.

"But you do have some interesting ideas, Mr. Meade . . ." she slyly looked at him. "Do I, my future Mrs. Meade?" he flirted. "Mmmhmm . . ." she replied, running her hand along his ass before walking away. "So how big is this place you found?" Daniel asked, trying to remember where he stashed his suitcase.

"Christina checked it out for me and she said that it was 'fit for a single gal on the prowl'" Betty answered in her best Scottish accent as she rustled through her duffle bag for shampoo, conditioner, and body wash before making her way into the bathroom. "Translation?" he inquired, confused. "1 bedroom, 1 bath postage stamp," she answered from the bathroom. "Don't you think we're gonna need a bigger place than that?" he said, skeptically.

"Well, yeah. But it'll work temporarily and it's not any smaller than my apartment in New York. Plus, I already signed a 6-month lease, so _I'm_ at least stuck for that long," she explained. "Well, if you're stuck, then I am happy to be stuck with you," he told her, finally finding his suitcase. "You're not gonna break out into a Huey Lewis song, are you?" she teased.

"Nope - I'm just 'doing it all for my baby'," he continued, taking out his shampoo. "Daniel . . . _stop!_ You really are a dork, you know?" she giggled. As she turned the knob on the shower, her stomach began to turn as well. ". . . But I know that's secretly why you love me . . . Hey, I can't be any worse than that Wilbur guy - or Henry - right?" he joked.

Betty rushed to the toilet and pulled up the seat, her hands clinging to the cold white porcelain as she heaved into the bowl. Why did she feel so horrible? It wasn't nerves or stress anymore – Daniel was here and he wanted to marry her. She hadn't felt happier or more relaxed in her life . . . Had she eaten something on the plane? She knew better than to drink anything but bottled water once she got here . . .

Water . . . her mouth had the rancid taste of bile and Papi's arroz con pollo from the night before . . . she had to get rid of it. Forcing her frail body off the floor, she shakily grasped onto the counter and spotted a bottle of Evian in the ice bucket. She twisted off the cap and took a drink, swishing the liquid around then spitting it out into the sink - repeating the process several times, trying to rinse the awful combination out of her system.

"Betty? Are you sick?" between the noise of rifling through his bag to find his conditioner and razor, Daniel thought he heard her coughing. Plus, he hadn't heard a peep out of her since his crack about her exes. He hoped he hadn't offended her. He couldn't help it – those two were the epitome of un-cool. Look up 'dork' in the dictionary and you'd find their pathetic mugs.

"Hey, I promise you can make fun of my exes all you want - actually you pretty much already have over the years," he called to her, reflecting on her tell-it-like-it-is attitude when it came to the women he dated. Betty thought she heard Daniel talking to her, but was too weak to form words. She could feel a burning, numbing sensation in her head.

Her arms and legs were like JELLO, making it almost impossible to hold herself up any longer. A rush of coldness fell over her as she turned sheet-white and collapsed backward on the tile floor. "Betty?" Daniel asked, hearing a thud. He shook his head and smiled. Knowing Betty, she probably just knocked over a shampoo bottle or something.

"Is everything okay?" he tried again thinking maybe she didn't hear him. Still no response. Panicking, he rushed in the bathroom to find his new fiancée lying unconscious on the floor. "Betty! Oh, god! Betty, please be all right! Baby, wake up!" he cried desperately, a sense of déjà vu coming over him as he knelt down beside her, making sure she was still breathing.

He flashed back to finding Molly in the same situation, the morning after their wedding. Did Betty have cancer too? _Oh god!_ He couldn't lose her – he couldn't go through that all over again . . . She was everything to him . . . Focus, damn it – focus! Pull it together! He ran over to the phone on the nightstand and started to call 9-1-1 – _Crap!_ – What the hell was the British equivalent? Luckily, it stared him right in the face, above the touch pad.

His fingers shakily dialed the numbers and impatiently waited for someone to pick up. Practically tripping over Betty's enormous bag, it occurred to him that she'd need some clothes. He grabbed the first top and pair of pants he could find – judging from her attire from only a year ago, he doubted she'd care if her outfit didn't match, just this once.

Top. Pants. A pair of her shoes were on the floor. What was he leaving out? . . . Underwear – she didn't even have any on right now. He frantically searched through her bag again . . . "Emergency Services, how may I assist you?" the dispatcher answered as Daniel finally found a pair of Betty's panties and a bra.

"Yes, this is Daniel Meade – I - I'm at The May Fair Hotel off of Stratton - Suite 429. My fiancée collapsed in the bathroom – she's still breathing, but I found vomit in the toilet and she's as pale as a ghost – please hurry!" he tried not cry, as he gave the dispatcher the information. "Sir, please stay calm. We're sending the medics over straight away. Could you tell me what occurred before she collapsed?" the woman asked.

"I – I don't know. She went in to warm up the water in the shower . . . I was in the bedroom area . . . we were laughing and joking . . ." he described. "Oh! Um . . . not too long before that, she said she felt a little lightheaded and had trouble keeping her balance for a minute - but she insisted she was fine . . ." he answered, finding it hard to keep his thoughts straight.

"How the hell long does it take for a freakin' ambulance to get here?" Daniel started to panic again, pacing across the floor raking his fingers through his hair with his free hand, paying no attention to the short allowance of the phone cord to follow him. In consequence, the other half of the phone fell off the nightstand and slammed onto the thinly padded carpet, startling him.

"Hello? Are you there?" he hoped he hadn't lost the connection. "Yes, sir. I'm still here. Mr. Meade, someone will arrive very shortly. In the meantime, please try to relax a bit and check on your fiancée. I just got word that the ambulance has arrived at your hotel and the medics will be up in just a few minutes," she informed him.

"Thank you," Daniel told her and hung up, running to Betty's side. He could feel her breath as he leaned over her. "It's going to be okay, baby. The paramedics are coming," he told her in a soothing voice, trying to convince himself that his spoken words were true - that his worst fear hadn't become a reality.


	13. Chapter 13

Hi! Thank you so much for all of the responses, as well as to those of you who read my one-shot "Baby Steps". Sorry for taking so long getting this out, but the suspense is over, lol! Look for another chapter soon . . . Enjoy!

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Betty slowly opened her eyes. Everything was fuzzy at first - she heard a constant beeping sound and smelled a combination of cafeteria food, antiseptics and cleaning fluid. She couldn't feel the warm, soft comfort of Daniel's sweater – only a thin, stiff piece of cotton covering her body along with what seemed to be blankets. She saw stark white walls and an auburn-haired, middle-aged woman with a stethoscope standing over her, adjusting her IV.

"How are you feeling, Ms. Suarez?" she inquired. "My throat's dry. Umm . . . what am I doing here?" Betty asked, disoriented. "That's to be expected. You were a bit dehydrated. I'll fetch you some juice and let the doctor explain everything to you. Might I bring you anything else?" the nurse replied.

"Daniel . . . where's Daniel?" Betty wasn't sure what was going on, but she knew she needed him just in case it was something serious. "You mean that strapping young man with the entrancing blue eyes, who's set to wear a hole in the floor and a bare spot on his head from fretting up a storm?" the woman asked. Betty mused - that was definitely Daniel. She smiled and nodded.

"If you don't mind me saying, I'd hold onto that one if I were you – he seems like a keeper . . . I'm Aubrey, by the way," the woman introduced herself. "Betty – and he really is," Betty grinned. "Be back in a bit," Aubrey winked and left the room, while Betty rested her eyes.

Aubrey came back a few minutes later with a container of juice and a beleaguered-looking Daniel trailing close behind, a vase of pink and yellow gerbera daisies in his hand. "Hey," Daniel quietly said as he timidly walked into her room, setting the flowers on her nightstand. "I'll leave you two lovebirds alone – fetching gem, by the way," Aubrey commented, observing Betty's ring as she took the juice from her.

"Thank you," Betty smiled and then lovingly gazed at Daniel. "The doctor will be in shortly," Aubrey added and left. "Are you okay? The doctor only told me that you were stable and nothing else – something about patient confidentiality . . ." he worriedly asked, lightly pecking her lips. "I don't know – you probably know more than I do, since I don't remember how I got here. Thank you for the flowers, they're beautiful," Betty answered.

"I know they're you're favorite," he said and smiled. What he didn't say to her was that getting them at the gift shop was all that kept him from knocking a wall in while he waited for the doctors to give him any ounce of information. "I found you passed out in the bathroom, and you'd thrown up. You didn't wake up, so I called an ambulance. I've never been more terrified in my life – it was like Molly all over again only worse, because I had no idea what I was facing . . ." Daniel confessed.

"Oh, baby . . . I'm so sorry I scared you like that – I don't know what's wrong with me," she squeezed his hand. "I went to turn on the water for the shower and felt sick to my stomach. While I was rinsing out my mouth, I got that weak, dizzy feeling again . . . then I woke up here," Betty recalled. She knew what Molly's illness had put him through and hoped nothing that horrible was wrong with her – for both of their sakes.

"It's okay – whatever it is, we'll get through it – I promise," Daniel assured her, kissing her hand. They heard a knock at the door as the doctor came in. "Ms. Suarez? I'm Dr. Andrews," the brunette-haired woman in her mid-forties introduced herself.

"It's Betty – and this is my fiancé, Daniel Meade," she replied as they all greeted one another. Fiancé . . . wow . . . it was the first time she'd said it out loud and it felt . . . strange . . . and exciting at the same time. "Betty?" Daniel put his hand on her arm, jolting her out of her thoughts. "Oh. Sorry! What were you saying?" she apologized.

"I was just telling Daniel, here, that my son works for London's MODE branch. He's an assistant to their editor in chief," Dr. Andrews told Betty. "Wow! That was actually my first job at MODE in New York," she commented. "This really is a coincidence. However, I suppose we should get down to the reason you're here," the doctor began. Betty took a deep breath. Daniel held onto Betty's hand in support.

"Now, I must ask before I go on, would you like some privacy while I tell you?" Dr. Andrews looked at Daniel. "I can leave, if you want?" Daniel offered. "No – stay . . . I need you here," Betty looked at him desperately, placing her other hand on top of his. Daniel smiled and nodded.

"Anything you have to say to me, you can say to Daniel," she nervously smiled at the doctor. "Very well, then. The reason why you collapsed was partially due to dehydration and lack of anything to eat. What has your lifestyle been like recently?" the doctor inquired.

"Not that great, actually. I've been under some stress the past few weeks and was basically just eating a ton of junk food and ended up throwing it up. I wasn't sleeping that well either. Last night or yesterday – I just got to London early this morning - I had stayed up the night before, in New York, and haven't had anything to eat but some pretzels and ginger ale on the plane," Betty confessed, embarrassed.

"I suggest you start taking better care of yourself, because you're now supporting a little one, as well," Dr. Andrews advised Betty. Betty looked at Daniel in shock. "What? I – I'm pregnant? But - but that's impossible – how can you tell that fast?" she protested, assuming it was from their marathon that morning. "You're three weeks along," Dr. Andrews confirmed.

"But – but we only slept together that one time?" Betty looked at Daniel again, who was still trying to process everything. "We broke up after that . . . We haven't been together since last night – or this morning – or whatever – and we've always used protection," she recalled the events.

Daniel's head was spinning from overload and shock – pregnant . . . baby . . . father . . . Betty okay . . . he blinked himself back to reality. "Yes, well contraceptives aren't one-hundred percent effective, as I assume you both already know. Did you perhaps have any other partners around the time you and Daniel had your spat?" the doctor asked.

Betty and Daniel simultaneously snapped their wide-eyes toward each other. It had never crossed Daniel's mind that Betty was ever that type of girl, but he had hurt her and left her to believe there was no going back. He knew all the stupid things he had done when he was hurt in the past . . . "No!" Betty adamantly exclaimed. "_God, no!_ I swear – it's always been you," she assured Daniel. "For me, too," he assured back, relieved.

"Very well, it appears you two are the parents of a new little baby. Of course there are other options, as I believe you're aware of, but I'll leave you some pamphlets in case you have any questions," she handed Betty and Daniel a few folded pieces of paper regarding everything to do with pregnancy alternatives.

"In the meantime, I'll write you a prescription for some pre-natal vitamins and schedule a tentative appointment for an ultrasound in six weeks. I'd like to keep you here overnight for observation, but it seems as though you will be perfectly fine with some rest and a healthy diet," Dr. Andrews replied. "Thank you," Betty and Daniel both managed to get out as the doctor left them to absorb everything.

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For minutes they sat in silence, unable to comprehend what the doctor had told them. Betty was so relieved not to have a life-threatening disease, but pregnant? With her new, even more demanding job and her fresh start with Daniel – including planning a wedding - a baby was the last thing she needed.

On the other hand, she couldn't even consider the alternative. Just the thought of it made her shudder. She wasn't brought up that way. Plus, she remembered Hilda's words about Justin - how even though she regretted not being able to do certain things because of him, he was still the best thing that had happened to her. Betty also recalled Hilda losing her baby with Bobby, that even though Hilda was skeptical of having another baby as a single mother, she was devastated when she lost it.

And when Betty thought about it, this wasn't like her own scare with Matt, where her feelings for him she could now admit weren't as strong as his were for her. While Matt was very supportive and happy about it – was all for raising a child with her - she was just relieved that she turned out not to be pregnant.

A part of it was probably because deep down she wasn't sure whether Matt was the right guy for her. Now, she really was with the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. But what if Daniel didn't want it? What if this scared him off? They had barely had time to be together as couple. Throw a child into the mix along with the rest of their busy lives and there went any time for romance.

It's not that she didn't want children, but she thought they had at least a year or two to settle down into their new lives and surroundings before adding to the chaos that was bound to ensue. And sure, Daniel had just mentioned about having children that morning. But she didn't think he meant he wanted an instantaneous family the second he proposed.

She didn't know if she could face raising a child on her own – as independent as she liked to think she was. Hilda did it, although technically she had had immense help from their family – not an option for herself unless she wanted to give up her job and move back home. Wait – she was getting ahead of herself. She didn't even know how Daniel felt yet.

Daniel still couldn't believe it – Betty – pregnant? A baby? How the hell did this happen? Well he knew _how_ – he knew _exactly_ how and when and where and how many times . . . he wouldn't trade that for anything. But a baby – _now_? Without question, he wanted kids. Ever since DJ came into his life, his views about having children had changed. And it wasn't like he was getting any younger either.

Only shouldn't they have some time to enjoy just being them? To adjust to living together, living in London, getting married, _being_ married . . . That wasn't even counting their careers – not that he had one anymore . . . but he had planned on getting a new one . . . and Betty _did_ have one.

And he refused to work late meetings, attend stuffy galas, stumble home at two in the morning to read drunken versions of fairytales, miss birthdays to go on cruises to Maui or the Virgin Islands, hire interior designers to decorate a tree for the holidays that would eventually get knocked over from having too much thoroughly-spiked eggnog, and eventually ship them off to boarding school because they needed to "man-up" or more to the point were too much to handle anymore.

He refused to know and care less about his children than their nanny did. He refused to be . . . well, his parents. He wanted more for them than that. He wanted them to have what he never had – a semi-normal, non-traumatizing childhood.

Why was he even going there? Betty hadn't really expressed her opinion on the current situation . . . maybe she didn't want . . . _God!_ He couldn't think about it. While he had always claimed he believed in a woman's right to choose, not wanting to seem like a male chauvinist pig, secretly he wasn't too keen about it.

After all, it was half the guy's too, right? And he couldn't lose another child – it was hard enough making the transition from father to uncle with DJ. But, he digressed. He'd cross that bridge if and when he came to it . . . speaking of which, it had been pretty quiet for a while now. He was so lost in his own world, he hadn't even checked to see if Betty was still okay – or ask her what _she_ thought they should do.

"Betty I –" "Daniel -" they laughed, both speaking at the same time. "Soo . . . what are you thinking? Are you happy . . . upset?" Daniel began. "I . . . I'm kinda both . . . I mean this is huge . . . but I haven't even started my new job yet . . . and we're going to have a wedding to plan – that is if you still want to . . ." Betty answered, unsure.

"Oh Betty, of course I do. Why would you think any different?" Daniel assured her. "I don't know . . . because this was all so fast and even though life will be a mess, I want to keep it – I _have_ to keep it . . . it's not in me to not . . . you said you wanted a family, but I know you didn't mean right away . . ." she confessed, her voice wavering. "Hey . . . Hey . . . Listen to me," he lifted her chin.

"I am not going anywhere - I love you. And I know it's crazy, but I already love this baby. I know it's going to be tough and it's not what we planned, but we're a team - we can make it work. And I can't think of anything better than a having a tiny someone who's a little bit me and a lot you," he sincerely professed, tenderly kissing her forehead. "I can't either. I'm so glad you're okay with this . . . I don't know what I'd do if you weren't. I love you so much," Betty admitted, relieved.

"So we're doing this?" Daniel asked, cupping her face. "We're doing this," she confirmed, bringing his forehead to meet hers. They both grinned. Daniel lovingly looked down at Betty's stomach and kissed it, then captured her lips with his. "We're going to be a family," he smiled. Betty put her arms around him, holding him tight.


	14. Chapter 14

_Thank you all again for the great responses! Here's the next chapter. Mostly fluff, but I figure it's deserved considering everything they've been through. Enjoy! :) _

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"Did you ever think we'd be here – you know, four years ago?" Daniel wondered, lying beside Betty in her hospital bed, absently toying with their interlocking fingers. "No. I mean I cared about you, but I think you were the last guy I thought about dating – much less marrying or having a baby with. You?" she giggled.

"Me neither . . . well at least not until that night on the bridge – after we hung out all night singing karaoke and crashing that wedding reception . . . I – I don't think it even crossed my mind about being with you specifically, but I knew I wanted to change – to someday be good enough for someone _like_ you," he revealed. "Aww . . . well I'm happy we finally got here," she said. "Me, too. _God_ – I can't believe we're having a baby!" he grinned. "I know!" she quietly squealed.

"Oh, that reminds me – I need to call my mother," Daniel realized. "I thought you already did that?" Betty assumed. "No, I was going to today and give her some good news for once, but with everything that happened, it slipped my mind," he explained. "Well you'd better do it before she gets worried. She hasn't seen or heard from you in three weeks. Oh – I was supposed to call her, too. Can you tell her I'm fine and that she was right?" she asked.

"Huh?" Daniel was confused. "She'll know what it means," Betty secretly smiled. "Ok . . . She's gonna flip when I tell her we're getting married _and_ having a baby," Daniel mused. "Wait – I don't think we should tell anyone about the baby yet," she hesitated. "What? . . . Why?" he asked, not following. "When were you thinking about getting married?" Betty began.

"I don't know, I hadn't really thought about an actual date. But it usually takes about six to eight months to book anything decent, right?" he answered. "Yeah, it _usually_ does . . . I – I just think we should wait – maybe until after the wedding to tell everyone?" she hoped. "Um . . . Baby, don't you think everyone's probably gonna notice by then?" he gave her a skeptical look.

"Well that's just it . . . I was thinking maybe we could get married a little sooner – well – a lot sooner than the normal wedding planning period takes – like maybe in a couple of months? I really want to get married before the baby's born, and I don't want to walk down the aisle carrying a basketball," she joked.

"A couple of months? Uh . . . yeah, I guess we could pull off something in that amount of time," he covered up his panic. It was a little longer than what he and Molly had to plan their wedding, but not much. And that was a disaster until Betty saved the day. He wanted to make their day unforgettable and amazing for her, but he hoped she didn't have very high expectations.

"Good! And don't worry – I was thinking of just having something simple. Maybe here, since it'd be easier to plan, with our immediate families and Marc, Amanda, Christina . . . possibly Wilhelmina?" Betty suggested. Daniel exhaled – not as bad as he imagined. "Sounds great," he kissed her temple.

"That's only around twenty people, counting their plus-ones, so I'm sure we could book a small ceremony and reception somewhere. Have anywhere specific in mind?" he asked, brushing her hair back. "Well, the weather should be really nice by June, so maybe something outside would be nice – or inside's fine too. I don't really know London that well, so I'm not sure what's available," she replied.

"We can do some research tomorrow . . . Oh! What about your boxes?" Daniel remembered. "It's okay – I made sure that someone had to sign for them before they could be delivered – just in case," she assured him. "Okay . . . speaking of moving, are you sure you even want to move into that place with the baby coming? I mean, even if you just wait until the lease is up, do you really want to deal with moving again when you're almost seven months pregnant?" he asked.

"No, but I don't know how I'm going to get out of it without losing all that money – I haven't even earned my first paycheck yet," she pointed out. "Why don't we talk to the superintendent and explain our situation – and if all else fails, I'll just pay the six months' rent in order to get you out of the lease?" he offered. "Daniel, that's so sweet, but I can't let you do that," Betty turned him down.

"Babe, I was all for living in that postage stamp when it was just you and me. But we've got someone else to worry about now and I don't want you to have to deal with the extra stress of moving. Plus, as far as I'm concerned, my money is your money," he insisted. "Well, I guess if my magazine takes off like I'm hoping it will, then I'll be able to pay you back," she thought out loud.

"You never stop, do you?" he chuckled. "What?" she asked. "Thinking you have to survive on your own. Betty, we're getting married – we're having a baby. And I want you and our child to have the best that I can offer you, without you feeling guilty about it," Daniel told her.

"I'm sorry. I – I just don't ever want you or anyone else to think I'm a gold-digger. I feel better about myself when I can manage on my own - even though I know you and your mother have helped me and my family out before . . . you really spoiled me when I was your assistant," Betty pointed out.

"Only at least then I knew I had gone out of my way to do my job, working late hours and doing unspeakable things – mostly because I cared about you more than I realized - but I was still technically working for you at the time. Anyway I just don't feel right not contributing as much as I can," she admitted.

"I get it. And you don't have to worry about anything, because once your magazine takes off, you'll be making just as much as I did at MODE. But I want you to know that I wouldn't care if you didn't make a dime - I love _you_," he told her. "I love you, too – and you know it doesn't matter to me that you're rich or famous – that's not who I fell for," she said.

"Yeah, I do. So you can stop trying to prove it to me. I do have money, and I want us to be able to enjoy it. I don't want you spending the rest of your life obsessing over not paying me back or not putting in your share," he replied. "But Daniel –" she protested. "Shh . . . Promise me," he insisted. "Okay, fine," she relented. "Say it," Daniel commanded.

The corners of Betty's mouth unwillingly twitched. ". . . I . . ." she teased him slowly with her lips. "Mmm . . . yeah, you what?" he prompted. ". . . I'm hungry. You think maybe you could go get us some dinner? I hate hospital food just as much as you do," she answered, avoiding his request. "Sure, no problem," Daniel answered.

"Mmm . . . thank you, baby," she smiled and kissed him again, secretly gloating in her success of distracting him. ". . . But not until you say it," Daniel demanded. He knew exactly what game she was playing and it wasn't going to work. Betty sighed in defeat. "Alright! I promise," she complied. "Good. I'll be back," he grinned and kissed her cheek before heading toward the door. "Babe?" Betty called. "Yeah?" Daniel turned around.

"Could you get my laptop and my glasses, too? I wanna get a head start on looking at venues and dresses and everything," she asked. "Baby, you're supposed to be taking it easy, not getting all stressed. And I know you – once you get started looking you'll insist on creating spreadsheets and charts and comparing numbers and colors and styles and dates and all that crap and end up staying up all night until everything's decided," he pointed out, as he walked back toward her and sat down on the bed.

"No I won't – I swear! I just want to look a little – just get some rough ideas," she defended herself. Daniel gave her a look. "Okay, yeah I would . . . but we really do need to get started. Places book up and dresses need time to be ordered and altered . . ." she added.

"Why don't you let me worry about it, okay? You can pick out the dresses, but tell me the colors you want and I'll take care of everything else – deal?" he suggested. Betty hesitated. "Deal . . ." she pouted. "Really?" he said, doubting that it really was. "Really – I trust you," she assured him, giving him a hug.

"Okay, I'll be back with the food," he got up. "And . . .?" she grabbed his hand, pulling him back. ". . . And your laptop," he groaned. "But dresses only!" he reminded her. "Dresses only," she satisfyingly agreed, drawing him in for a kiss to seal the deal. As Daniel left feeling calmer now that everything had fallen back into place, Betty smiled and settled in for a short nap. She knew she'd eventually get him to cave . . .

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"Hi, it's me," Daniel spoke into his phone, on the way back from picking everything up. "Daniel! Where the hell have you been?" Claire greeted her son. "Mom –" Daniel began. "Do you have any inkling what you put me through the past three weeks? I've been worried sick not knowing if you were all right. And that's not including the way you just up and abandoned your magazine! Wilhelmina's having a field day, I'll have you know," Claire berated him.

"Let her. I'm starting a new path and I'm leaving MODE behind. I have faith in Wilhelmina's capabilities to carry on as sole chief," he replied. "Well, I can only assume from your nonchalant, cheerful attitude that you've finally taken the time to pull your head out of your ass and go after the love of your life," she brashly observed. "_Mom!_" Daniel protested. He hated the way she immediately pointed out everything he didn't want to hear about himself – and more times than not in a not-so-motherly type of way.

"I'm sorry, Daniel. I don't mean to be crude, but it's the truth. You're stubborn and impulsive, just like your father. And in consequence, people you love get hurt. I just hope you've learned something from this, because I want you to be happy. And I know Betty makes you happy. Have you had an opportunity to speak with her, yet?" Claire asked.

"Yes, I have," Daniel answered. "Well? How are things going?" she inquired. "Good – great actually . . . We're um . . . we're getting married," Daniel revealed, beaming. "Darling, that's wonderful! Oh, I'm so happy for both of you – please send Betty my love," Claire exclaimed. "I will, Mom. Oh – she said to tell you 'you were right' – whatever that means," he remembered. Claire chuckled. "It's just a little secret between us – nothing to worry about," she brushed off.

"So, when is the blessed event? Fall and winter weddings are so beautiful," she commented. "Well, actually we were thinking a little sooner than that – more like the end of June?" he told her, cringing in anticipation of her response. "Sweetheart, that's only two months from now – that's not enough time to prepare for a wedding! She's not ill, is she?" Claire asked, concerned.

"No, Mom. We just love each other so much that we don't want to wait – and with Betty starting her new job, she knows things will get so crazy that she won't have time to plan everything," he explained, hoping she wouldn't catch on to the real reason. "Daniel, I'd be happy to offer my services if you two are unable to handle everything," Claire sincerely told her son.

"Thank you, but Betty and I really want to do this ourselves. And it shouldn't be that hard since we were thinking of a smaller, more intimate ceremony," he replied. "Daniel, three-hundred people is still a lot to plan for –" Claire began. Daniel chuckled. "No, Mom. We were thinking more like twenty," he informed her.

"Oh. Well I suppose that will make it a lot simpler to plan . . . In a way, I wish my wedding to your father had been a little smaller. Having to greet all those guests was exhausting and the sad thing was that I didn't even know the majority of them at the time," she reflected.

"I think your father had decided to invite practically everyone he had ever met. We barely had a minute alone to celebrate ourselves without having to tend to the guests. But I'll still cherish that day for the rest of my life . . . I'm sure whatever you two decide will be perfect," she assured him.

"Thanks, Mom," Daniel said. ". . . I _will_ be on the guest list, I presume?" Claire checked. "_God_ - Mom! Of course you will," he rolled his eyes. "I was only making sure. After all, with only twenty guests, more than a few people have to be cut . . . Well, I will let you go, but please keep in touch. It would be nice if a mother got a phone call from her son at least once a week," Claire replied, pouring on the guilt.

"I will, Mom. Love you," he promised. "I love you too, sweetheart. Give Betty a hug for me," she told him. "I will. Bye," Daniel hung up. Shockingly, it went better than he expected.

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"So I talked to my mom while I was out," Daniel remarked as he and Betty were eating. "Oh, good! What'd she say when you told her about our engagement?" she smiled. "She kinda flipped about the two months to plan the wedding and the size. But she told me to tell you she sends her love and to give you this," Daniel hugged Betty. "Aww . . . I just love your mom!" she said.

"Oh! I need to call my family!" she realized. "_Oooooooohhhhhhhhhh!_" she whined. "What? What is it?" Daniel worriedly asked. "I forgot to have you get my phone and I don't have anyone's number memorized . . ." she answered. "Here, use mine," he handed it to her. "You have my family's numbers in your address book?" she asked, surprised.

"Yeah . . . don't look so shocked," he replied. "I'm . . . not. It's just a little weird," she commented. "Weird? Why?" he innocently inquired. She raised an eyebrow. "Don't give me that look – I hate when you give me that look!" he whined, defensively. "And what look would that be?" she replied. "The 'I can't believe Daniel's such a pathetic moron' look," he groaned in embarrassment.

"Baby . . . I don't think that. I think it's really sweet," she assured him. He gave her a skeptical look. "Okay, maybe it's a little weird that my father's number's been in here for four years now," she admitted. "He's a really good listener and gives great advice!" Daniel grumbled, embarrassed. "Yeah, he is," she patronizingly patted his cheek.

"Okay. I hope I can catch them while they're all still at Papi's," she dialed Hilda's number. "Ugh! Daniel, enough already! If my sister didn't take you back, it's your own damn fault! I did all I can do for you, so stop bitching about it and get over yourself!" Hilda greeted her. "Uh . . . Hey, Hilda – it's me!" Betty stopped her from hanging up.

"Betty! Why didn't you tell me it was you?" Hilda gasped in excitement. "Well, it was kinda hard to get a word in edgewise with you going off on Daniel like that . . ." Betty explained. "Sooo . . . you two are back together then - or did you kick his ass and steal his phone?" Hilda guessed. "Well . . . he's sitting on my bed, so you tell me," she ambiguously replied. "Ay! Chica, you are _sooo baad!_" Hilda squealed.

"Is everyone still around?" Betty asked. "Yeah, we were getting ready to leave, but I'll go get Papi," Hilda answered. "Good – put me on speakerphone," Betty requested as she did the same and pulled Daniel closer to the phone. "Hi, Aunt B! Hey, Chipmunk! Hola, Mija!" Justin, Bobby and her father greeted her. "Hi, everyone! Daniel and I have something we want to tell you," she said, taking his hand and smiling. "We're getting married!" they both exclaimed.

"_Eeeeee! _That's so great! You have to send me a pic of that rock! It's about time, Daniel!" Hilda shrieked. "Congratulations, AB and UD!" Justin added. "Way to go, Chipmunk! You snagged yourself an amazing girl, man!" Bobby chimed in. "I'm so happy for you, Mija! Welcome to our family, Daniel! I know you'll take good care of my little girl," Ignacio responded to the news.

"Aww . . . Thank you! I miss you! We've gotta go, but Hilda, Justin – I promise we'll talk wedding stuff soon! I love you guys! Talk to you soon!" Betty told them. "Thanks, everyone! Thanks, Justin - I'm looking forward to being your uncle. We miss you! Bye," Daniel added before everyone hung up.

"Better now? I hope you didn't feel rushed – I could've left if you wanted to talk to them alone," he asked, rubbing his hands along her upper arms, hoping he hadn't made her feel uncomfortable. "No – it was great! I was happy we got to tell them all together. Besides, Hilda and Justin and I will end up talking or texting every day, anyway. And Papi's finally learning how to email," she assured him.

"So, did you bring my laptop and glasses?" she asked. Daniel got up and handed them to her before lying back down beside her. "Yay! I'm so excited!" she squealed. He chuckled in amusement, loving how perky she was.

"So for Hilda's dress I was thinking either plum or an apple red. What do you think?" she looked at Daniel for advice. "Well, plum's the 'in' color right now, but pick whatever makes you happiest," he told her. "Well, I think I'll go with it. I'll just have to figure out what style looks best . . ." she answered.

"What about _your_ dress?" Daniel inquired. "Daniel . . . you are _not_ going to see what I'm wearing – it's bad luck," she scolded. "Come on, babe – it's not a big deal when it's just a picture," he argued. "Nope. Not gonna happen," she smirked. "Fine . . . I know you'll look gorgeous in whatever you pick. Hell, you'd look sexy wearing a paper bag," he kissed her neck.

"Mmm . . . thank you . . . So, I was thinking this would look great on Hilda – or maybe this style . . . Ooh! What do think about this black and white one for Alexis . . ." Betty continued to eagerly look at all the different possibilities as Daniel drifted off into his own thoughts.

He loved how excited she got about every little detail. He just loved everything about her. As he absently rubbed her belly, he thought about how lucky he was. Aside from his pending career, he had all that he could possibly want in life. He loved Betty more than anything in the world and knew she felt the same about him, now they even had a baby on the way. Life was good . . . life was . . . He felt Betty's hand cover his own.

"Daniel? Are you okay?" she asked. "Yeah. I was just thinking . . . how everything's . . . perfect," he smiled. Betty paused in thought. "I guess it is," she smiled back and softly brushed her lips against his before continuing to look at dresses, making sure he paid attention that time.


	15. Chapter 15

_Thank you so much for reading and for your comments! Thought our couple could use a few more light-hearted moments with some serious issues thrown in. Should be pitchfork-free . . . for now, anyway, lol. Enjoy! :)_

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"Daniel, where are we going? I can't believe you won't let me take this thing off," Betty exclaimed in frustration. She was too intrigued by Daniel's secrecy to continue with his little game, although she had already figured out by the clip-clopping sound and the pungent smell that they were more than likely in a horse-drawn carriage. Her hand reached for the blindfold, but he immediately swatted it away.

"_Betty!_ You'll ruin my surprise! Just remember - good things come to good girls who wait . . ." he whispered mysteriously in her ear. "You're really having fun with this, aren't you?" she mused. "Hey, it's not every day I can kidnap a beautiful woman and do whatever I want with her – especially not one as feisty as you," he pointed out, seductively kissing her lips. "So just relax . . . and enjoy the ride," he leaned back and put his arm around her.

"Fine . . ." Betty sighed and relented, resting her head on his shoulder. "How much longer?" she asked after only a minute had past. "You know those family road trips with the annoying kids in the car whining 'Are we there yet'?" Daniel hinted. "Sorry – it's just I have this thing about not knowing or planning and –" Betty apologized.

"I know – you had my schedules worked down to the minute. But just . . . trust me okay? I promise you're going to like what you see when we get there," he assured her. "Okay – but it'd better be good," she teased. Daniel chuckled. "So. What was Lindsay's reaction when you told him the news?" he asked as a distraction.

"He was really happy for us and actually offered to give me three days off for the honeymoon," she answered. "Wow! That's really good since you just started," he exclaimed. "Yeah, I know! I was surprised too – I figured we'd just have the weekend for everything and that'd be it," she agreed.

"I hope he's that understanding when you tell him about the baby," he added. "Me, too. But I was thinking . . . I could still work from home – I just wouldn't be able to oversee photo shoots and things like that. But I could do pretty much everything else as long as I had my laptop and my phone," she pondered.

"Baby, are you sure about that? I mean, those six weeks are supposed to be for you to recover from the delivery and get adjusted to everything. Do you really want the added stress of work going along with that?" he asked, concerned.

"Daniel, it's not like I haven't helped take care of a baby before. The only thing I'll have to get used to is breast-feeding. Besides, I don't know if I'll have a choice. Offering to still work from home might be the only way to stay on Lindsay's good side. Six weeks is a long time to be off," she pointed out.

"True . . . I just don't want you to over-do it," he told her. "It's too bad you couldn't fill in for me while I'm gone – but I know you'll have a job by then," she wistfully sighed. "Hopefully. I don't really know what I'm looking for," he said.

"Well, I do have a few positions to fill at the magazine. But that's only if you want – you should find your own passion – what you've always dreamed about doing," she encouraged him, blindly reaching out for his hand. Daniel took it, placing both of their hands around her stomach.

"That's the thing – I don't think I've ever had the chance to even think about it. Dad had already decided what Alex and I were going to do since we were born. And after I actually put some effort into it, I loved being editor of MODE. I just hated all the paperwork and responsibility that came along with it. If I could just cover shoots, deal with layouts, and come up with concepts, it wouldn't be so bad. But dealing with paperwork and financial problems – having a ton of dull meetings a week . . . _that's_ what I hated," he confessed.

"So . . . do you think you still want to stay in the mag industry? I mean, I'm not trying to stop you from it, but there are other places you can go with your degree and experience," Betty delicately tried to suggest. "I think the problem is that I know one day I'll be running MEADE – whether it's from here or back in New York - it's my father's company and I'll eventually inherit it. So steering too far from that direction and then having to go back would be harder, for me at least," he admitted.

"That's no reason not to find something you enjoy in the meantime, though. You've got decades before having to think about that – for your mother's sake, I hope. Take a chance – like you did with me. What do you really want – right now?" she encouraged him. "Well . . . advertising always seemed like a cool job. It'd still be dealing with concepts and shoots, PR . . . but without all the paperwork B.S., right?" he contemplated.

"It depends on what position you have in the industry, I guess. I mean, look at all the negotiation we went through every issue to please our advertisers. There's obviously some paperwork involved along the line and crappy things you're not going to want to do. But every job has that. And maybe there's not a lot or any paperwork on the level you're aspiring to be at . . . I think it's a great idea, babe – if that's what you really want to do," she said, interlocking their fingers. "Thank you," he gently kissed her cheek.

"I just thought of something, though. Who's going to watch the baby while we're both at work?" he realized. "Oh – I was going to tell you - I discreetly looked into that today. Turns out Dunne Publications has a built-in childcare center. Guess they want to encourage working parents and understand unexpected long hours are sometimes a problem at normal centers," she enthusiastically replied.

"That's great! I was afraid we'd need to hire a nanny or something," he said, relieved. As he absently toyed with their interlocked fingers he considered their situation. At least this way Betty would be able to be with their child during her lunch and down time. And depending on where he worked, he could try to do the same. It wasn't as good as constantly having one of them with their child, but it was definitely better than having someone else raise their kid.

"Daniel? Are we doing the right thing?" Betty stilled their hands, pulling them back down to her stomach. "What do you mean?" Daniel wondered. "Having someone other than family take care of our child – even if we make time for them throughout the work day? I mean, the first few years are the most important times of his or her life . . ." she had second thoughts.

"I don't know . . . I do know that whatever we do has to be better than handing our baby off to the nanny and only making time to tuck him or her in every night. Our parents aren't here to help us, but that doesn't prevent us from still being good parents ourselves – or make us bad ones for both working," he assured her.

"I just . . ." Betty began. "Feel selfish for wanting it all?" Daniel finished for her. "How did you -?" she asked, flummoxed by the way he so quickly knew exactly what she was feeling. "Because I can tell when you're worried. And you shouldn't be. You have no reason to believe you're being selfish for still wanting to keep your job. It's not the '50s anymore, you can do both and not feel bad about it," he pointed out.

"Are you sure?" she timidly asked. "Betty, our child isn't going to suffer from spending a few hours a day with someone else. As long as we make as much time as we can for him or her, there's nothing to worry about," he reassured her.

"I don't want to be a bad mother . . ." she sighed, thinking of the support Hilda had from their father when she was raising Justin. The more she thought about it, the more reservations she had about leaving her child in the hands of a stranger – even if it was only for a few hours a day. "Betty, you're going to be a strong, incredible mother who our son or daughter will admire and adore just as much as I always have," he insisted as the carriage halted. "Really?" she timidly asked as Daniel stepped onto the ground.

"Really. Now no more anxiety – tonight is supposed to be stress-free and fun," he lifted her down. "Close your eyes, take a deep breath, and relax," he commanded.

Betty followed his instructions as Daniel slowly peeled off the blindfold. "Open your eyes," he told her, no longer able to resist the suspense. Betty carefully lifted her eyelids. "_Shut! Up!_" she exclaimed, taking in the sight. "Welcome to our wedding venue!" Daniel boyishly grinned.

"_Shut! Up!_ Are you serious?" Betty exclaimed in disbelief, shoving Daniel's chest so hard he almost lost his balance. His smile widened into a huge grin, loving her reaction. It was just how he imagined it – so overly enthusiastic . . . so poignant . . . so . . . Betty. "Oh my god! Daniel . . ." she tried to contain her tears.

"It's – it's more than I could ever have imagined . . . How did you pull it off with such short notice?" she inquired, taking in the spectacular 19th Century Gothic castle with its enormous courtyard and beautiful pond. "Let's just say it pays to have connections and a little extra cash," he winked. "And the charm of a prince . . ." she added, her arms encircling him in a loving embrace. "Anything for my princess," he rested his cheek on the top of her head, breathing her scent in as they stood still in the moment.

"Have I told you how much I love you?" Betty coyly asked. "Maybe once or twice . . ." Daniel gently teased. Betty reached up and brought his lips down to hers. "I love you," she sincerely told him, resting her forehead on his. "I love you, too," he gazed lovingly into her brown eyes. Clearing his throat, he pulled away, knowing they had an appointment to keep with the planner. "Come on, your future kingdom awaits," he said as he guided her towards the courtyard.

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"_He didn't!_ Ye mean he finally got off his dumb pampered arse and followed ye to London?" Christina exclaimed over the phone. "He did – _and_ he proposed!" Betty giggled. "Well, maybe he isn't such a numptie after all," Christina begrudgingly admitted. "_Christina!_ Be nice!" Betty scolded her.

"Sorry, love. I'm just lookin' out fer ye. We both know how he treated ye recently. But I'm happy ye and Daniel are back together. So when's the big day? Have ye found the perfect dress yet? 'Cause I'll gladly make one fer ye," Christina eagerly inquired. "Oh, thank you. But unfortunately I don't think you'd have enough time – it's in June," Betty replied, picking up a box, beginning to cart it into the dining room.

"_Jesus, Betty! _What's the rush? _Ooooooo!_ Ye don't have a bun in the oven, do ye?" she guessed. Betty nearly dropped the box. "_Betty!_ Put that down! You shouldn't be lifting anything in your condition," Daniel ordered, overly concerned. Betty shot daggers at him and gestured for him to zip his mouth. ". . . Uh – Christina, I've gotta go – I have to deal with something that _just won't shut up_ . . . I'll call you back later with more details," Betty tried to save herself before Christina figured it out.

"_Daniel!_ You knew I was on the phone – what the hell were you thinking? Christina's not dense, like Amanda – she was _this_ close to figuring it out already - and I'm sure she did if she heard you!" she exclaimed, slamming the box down on the coffee table. "I'm sorry – I'm just worried about you. They say pregnant women shouldn't lift anything . . ." he defended his concern for her. Betty softened.

"Babe, I appreciate your looking after me, but I think I can handle a five pound box," she smirked. "But if it makes you feel any better, I'll leave the lifting to you and start with the unpacking," she added, opening a box of kitchen utensils and placing them in the canister.

"I still can't believe you talked me into this place – and that the seller wanted to close so fast. The title agency must not have had much business lately," she said, making the long trek to the gourmet kitchen complete with stainless steel appliances, dark cherry cabinets, and granite countertops. "Although, I'm sure it's not every day that they deal with multi-million dollar transactions," she reasoned.

"You said you loved it – that it was your dream house?" Daniel put down a box with confusion in his eyes as she came back to the formal living room with large windows, white crown molding, wainscoting, wood-burning fireplace, and built-in book cases. "I do – I could fit my entire Manhattan apartment in the living and dining rooms," she threw up her arms in amazement. Over 3,300 square feet was like a mansion compared to anywhere she'd lived in New York.

"But that's not the point. We can't afford it – this is Notting Hill – one of the most expensive areas in London – and we've got a wedding to pay for on top of it," she replied. "Betty, you're forgetting that I'm a Meade. We can definitely afford it. And if we somehow wind up in trouble, I'll just sell one of my vacation properties," he assured her. "But –" she protested.

"Yeah, I know. You want to contribute – and you will. After your magazine takes off, I highly doubt we'll be strapping for cash. Plus, I haven't even found a job yet – more revenue there. Baby, you have nothing to worry about," he reassured her. Betty sighed. "You're right – I'm too practical . . . too independent . . . too cautious . . ." she admitted.

"Yep," he agreed with a mischievous smirk. "What do you mean 'yep'? You're supposed to tell me I'm perfect just the way I am," she mocked offense. "Hey, you wanted an honest relationship . . ." he grinned, his blue eyes twinkling. She rolled her eyes. "Get back to work!" she playfully smacked his ass and started back over to the stack of unopened boxes for the first floor.

"Hey," Daniel caught her arm. "What?" she wondered. "Are you really happy here? Tell me the truth," he pulled her towards him. Betty gently put her hands on his chest. "Yes, I am . . . I'm just scared, that's all," she replied, knowing that probably didn't ease his mind any, but since they were being honest, might as well . . . "Of what? We're not going to lose the house –" he gave her a perplexed look.

"No – just of everything. This isn't just a house – it's our life now. This – it's my dream – ever since I was a little girl . . . Well maybe not you specifically, but a husband, children, a great job, nice house . . . I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop . . . for it all to come crashing down . . ." she revealed, dropping her gaze to the dark hardwood floor.

"And I thought I was the cynical one," he chuckled. "Look, Betty you can't go through life like that and really live it. I don't know what took the spunk out of you, but I miss it," he lifted her chin and kissed her nose. "Sorry . . . I think it's just hormones and all that's happened in the past month or so . . ." she apologized.

"It's okay – sometimes I feel like I have to pinch myself, too. Being with you, creating another life with you – it's more than I ever could have hoped for," he traced her jawline with his finger. He wished there was a way to erase all her doubt, but no one could predict the future. All he knew was that he would always be by her side, through anything that happened.

"Let's enjoy this – right here, right now . . . Okay?" he whispered, softly brushing his lips against hers. "Okay," she smiled, hugging him. "Aaah!" she squealed as he spontaneously lifted her into his arms. "_Daniel!_ We're supposed to be unpacking!" she giggled.

"Later! I think we have bigger tasks to accomplish right now . . ." he nibbled on her ear. "Really? Like what?" she coyly asked. "Like breaking-in our new king-size mattress on our new bed . . ." he suggested before the doorbell rang. "Aww . . . our first visitor in our new home," Betty smiled as Daniel carried her closer to the door so she could open it.

"Newlyweds?" the FedEx worker assumed. "No – soon, though," Betty replied, affectionately looking up at Daniel. "Just practicing," Daniel smiled back. "Well, congratulations, then . . . I have a delivery for Daniel Meade?" he motioned to the large box beside him and held out an electronic signer.

"Oh! That's me," Daniel answered, putting Betty down and signing for the package. "Thank you," they said as the man left. "Were you expecting something?" she asked. "Actually . . . I was," he said, dragging the box into the two-story foyer and searching for the scissors.

"What is it?" she curiously peeked inside the styrofoam-filled box. "You'll see . . . it's just a little something I thought our newest family member could use . . ." he ambiguously replied, removing the object from the box and undoing the bubble-wrapping. "Daniel, it's beautiful!" she exclaimed, when he revealed a dark-stained wooden rocking horse with a light green saddle cushion.

"It was mine, when I was a kid . . . I called to get it out of storage and had it re-finished and re-upholstered," he explained. "It looks great, doesn't it?" he beamed, admiring the work that was done. "It's amazing . . . and I love it even more because it was yours. Our baby will love it," she stared at him in awe. "You think so?" he asked, placing his hand on her stomach. "What do you think? Daddy did good, didn't he?" she looked down at her belly, laying her hand on top of his.

"Did you know he or she's about the size of a grain of rice right now?" Daniel looked down at Betty. "How did you know that?" she asked, surprised. ". . . I've been doing some reading," he smiled proudly. "For someone who's unemployed, you've been a pretty busy boy – castles, mansions, rocking horses, baby research . . . Look at you – you're so cute. You're really getting into this, aren't you?" she smiled. "I guess I am," he affectionately kissed her forehead and pulled her into him.

"So. You wanna go finish what we started . . .?" she mischievously looked up at him. "What – unpacking?" he assumed. "If that's what you really want . . ." she coyly bit her bottom lip, toying with the buckle of his belt. "Race you upstairs!" he grinned, darting towards the curved staircase.

"Hey! No fair – you cheated!" she protested as she caught up with him on the first landing. "Aaah!" she squealed as he swept her off of her feet. "Now we both win," he playfully wriggled his eyebrows, carrying her the rest of the way. "Definitely . . ." she agreed, fingering the hair at the nape of his neck before sinking her lips into his.


	16. Chapter 16

_Thanks for reading and for the great comments - it's really appreciated! I don't think our couple's story is over yet - might just be the calm before the storm . . . Enjoy! :) (Or get out the pitchforks and burritos again, lol! :P)_

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A week later, Betty lay curled up in a ball, post-coital with Daniel – well, if she could even completely define it as that. Half an hour had passed by without even uttering another word, just a simple backwards nod to him reiterating she was okay - a lie she refused to admit. She had no idea what had happened.

She'd never experienced so much discomfort during their lovemaking before – or with anyone actually. Stabbing so bad she had to ask him to stop – what was wrong with her? The sharp pain had subsided not long after they had separated, leaving her only with some mild soreness, however the embarrassment had ceased to fade.

She was sure Daniel's ego had been scarred as well. She couldn't bear to look at him – not after what had happened. It's not that she was blaming him – she wasn't at all. Daniel had always been sensitive to her needs, never pushing her farther than she felt comfortable with. As she clutched the satin sheets even closer to her naked body, she knew something wasn't right.

She hated to even fathom the possibility that it was . . . nope not going there. Anything but that – what happened with Hilda was the last thing she'd wish on anybody. And she refused to believe that there could be a remote chance something similar was happening to her. They were just too rough this time – that was all.

Daniel felt like hell. The last thing in the world he intended to do was physically hurt Betty. But he knew he had. He was an idiot for not catching on sooner, not being able to distinguish her signals of pleasure from pain.

They were both so good at reading each other, but the one time it mattered the most, he had failed. And now she refused to talk, insisted she was fine - that it wasn't his fault . . . but he wasn't convinced it was true. She wouldn't be shutting him out if it was, balled up in a fetal position with her back towards him, like he was the last person on the earth she wanted to be near.

All he wanted was to hold her, talk to her - make everything all right. But he knew that obviously wasn't what she wanted right now. She was probably humiliated, as well - needing space, time alone. Despite his better judgment, he was going to let her have it.

"Babe, I'm gonna go downstairs and take care of some more of those boxes," Daniel quietly got up and searched for his jeans. As she slowly rolled onto her opposite side to face him, Betty could tell from his guilt-ridden expression that he felt she was blaming him. "Wait. Please . . . just stay with me?" she pleaded, unable to stand him thinking that way. "I wanna talk . . . if you're up to it," she requested. Daniel abandoned his search and apprehensively climbed back into the bed.

"I'm so sorry, Daniel. It was all my fault. And I know what you must have been thinking when I couldn't look at you afterwards . . ." Betty apologized, taking his hand. "No - I'm the one who's sorry. I never meant to hurt you, Betty," he brushed her hair back.

"I hate knowing I'm the one who's causing you to be in pain. I love you so much . . ." he professed, cradling her face in his hands before planting a remorseful kiss on her slightly quivering lips. "Baby, I don't know what's wrong with me . . ." Betty looked up at him with fear and frustration in her eyes. All Daniel could do was hold her tight as she softly wept into his chest.

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"It's getting late . . . are you sure you're up to this?" he worried. "Daniel, it's 7:00 on a Saturday night – unless we've miraculously aged fifty or sixty years, I think it's pretty early still," she argued. "Maybe we should see Dr. Andrews or go to the ER?" Daniel suggested. "I doubt she makes house calls and I don't want to spend eight hours in the waiting room when I'm fine, now. I've got an appointment with her in a few weeks. I'm good – honest," she insisted, noticing she was getting a skeptical look from him.

"Now that you're starting work at that ad agency, we really need to get the rest of this done this weekend. And it's a nice distraction, considering I don't think we need to try anything for a while . . ." she grimaced. "Besides, I've gotta find where I stashed those potential dresses for the launch party," she insisted. "But that's like two weeks from now?" Daniel commented, not understanding the rush.

"I know, but if I can't find them, I'll have to go out and buy new ones. And I have no idea where my Louboutins your mom gave me are," Betty told him as she rummaged through boxes. "I just don't want you to take any risks – especially not with the baby, and me having that business trip for a few days," Daniel expressed his concern. "Could you please at least call the doctor?" he bargained.

"I'm going to miss you . . ." she pouted. "I'll miss you too, but it's the price I have to pay for taking those three days off for our honeymoon – flying to Ireland to help try to land this account," he reminded her. "Mmm . . . then I guess it's worth it . . . And _you_ will do great!" she convinced him. "Thank you – I hope so," he nervously rubbed the back of his neck just thinking about it . . . Wait - she was once again throwing him off the subject.

"And . . ." he prompted, clearing his throat. "And . . . if I have any more problems, I promise I will call Dr. Andrews," she compromised, sealing the deal by pecking his nose. She affectionately patted his softened stomach and smiled. "I'm letting myself go – aren't I?" he digressed, as he captured her hand. "Daniel, do you honestly believe all I care about are your rock-hard abs?" she snickered.

"Well, kinda – they're one of my best features . . ." he sheepishly defended himself. Betty shook her head in amusement as she lifted his t-shirt and lowered herself for a better view. "You have a very . . . sexy . . . stomach," she insisted, seductively kissing a trail from his still very flattering waistline up to his equally appealing chest. Daniel felt his breath catch.

"Betty . . ." he half-heartedly protested. "But if you're not satisfied with it, why don't you find a gym? A couple days a week and I'm sure you'll get your six little friends back in no time," she obliviously teased his bottom lip before returning to her hunt for clothes. "Do you have any idea of the effect you have over me?" he asked, following behind her, encircling his arms around her waist. He grazed his teeth along her exposed shoulder, causing her to let out a contented moan.

"A little," she tilted her head back, smiling deviously up at him. "You're insatiable," he grinned, capturing her lips from above. "Only when it comes to you . . ." she returned the grin. "And . . . for the record, _you_ started it . . ." she pointed out, spinning around. "What? How? _You_ were the one trying to de-clothe me," he countered.

"Only because you were whining about losing your abs," she matter-of-factly stated, poking his belly. "Next time I'll just let you sulk . . ." she playfully threatened, sauntering back to the boxes. "I was _not_ sulking," he objected, despite the twitching corners of his mouth. "Keep telling yourself that, babe," she snickered.

"_Oooh!_ Found 'em!" she squealed, holding up a shoebox. "Well, the shoes anyway . . ." she elaborated. "Good. I'm sure the dresses are around here somewhere . . . Oh, wait! I think I remember temporarily putting a couple of garment bags in the hall closet," he recalled. "_Now_ you tell me," she rolled her eyes and went to the closet. "Yep. They're in here. I'm gonna go take them upstairs," she replied, zipping them back up. Daniel exhaled an uneasy sigh and hoped she really was okay.

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"Thank you so much for coming, Christina! It's nice to have someone with me to give an honest opinion," Betty said, hugging her friend in the high-end bridal store's dressing room, preparing for her fitting. "Well, I'm off fer a few days an' what better way to spend one of 'em than with my favorite London editor," Christina shrugged. Betty smiled and shook her head. "Stuart an' little William send their love, by the way," Christina added.

"Aww . . . that's sweet. I can't wait to see them again – it's been almost two years, hasn't it?" Betty recalled the bittersweet memory. Christina nodded. "And I'm sorry I couldn't have you in the wedding party, it's just since it'll be a small ceremony, we knew if we had more than one person standing up for each of us, we wouldn't have very many guests," she apologized, with a slight laugh.

"Oh, don't worry about it, Betty! I'm just happy ye two kids finally figured it out," Christina dismissed her concern. "I still can't get over Daniel bookin' a castle – or buyin' that monster of a house fer ye . . . Daniel Meade a domesticated romantic – never thought I'd live to see the day . . ." Christina mused as she zipped up Betty's gown and began lacing up the corset.

"He's definitely a changed man . . ." Betty agreed. Just the thought of Daniel made her smile. "What do you think?" Betty asked in reference to the ivory-colored satin strapless dress with subtle beaded metallic embroidery, chapel pick-up train and champagne-colored sash that draped around her waist, tying in a long bow in the back.

"Oh, Betty - it's beautiful! You look absolutely gorgeous! If those gangly anorexic bitches at MODE could see ye now, they'd be eatin' crow – if they ever ate . . ." Christina beamed with pride at her once fashion-impaired friend. "Thank you! . . . Do you think Daniel will like it?" Betty timidly wondered. "_Like_ it? Daniel's eyes'll be poppin' out of his skull the minute he sees ye – an' if they don't, he's a bloody idgit!" Christina assured her.

"I hope so," Betty sighed contentedly. "You're glowin'," Christina noticed. "It's all because of Daniel," Betty beamed. "Are ye sure about that? After our conversation last weekend, I wonder if maybe a wee little one isn't helpin' ye along, as well?" she questioned. Betty nervously hesitated. She had never been good at lying. ". . . Daniel's made me happier than I've ever been with anyone," Betty dodged the subject.

"That answered my question, alright . . ." Christina looked like the cat who swallowed the canary. "_Christina_ . . ." Betty protested. "Oh, relax, Betty - I won't tell a soul! Honestly, I don't understand what the big deal is. Ye and Daniel are gettin' married – Oooooh . . . That's the reason why, isn't it? I'm so sorry, love –" Christina jumped to conclusions.

"_No_ – that's not it all! Daniel proposed before we had any idea," Betty corrected her. "Daniel doesn't even know this – but I figured everyone would assume that – especially the press in New York. To them, I'm still his clumsy assistant; they'd think he just felt obligated and that I was a gold-digger who dragged him out of his cushy job to play house with me in London," Betty explained her reasoning.

"Yer probably right - the press is full of nasty little buggers who twist everythin' to land a story. Have ye even told yer family yet?" Christina asked. "No. I didn't think it'd hurt if Papi thought he had _one_ grandchild who was conceived in wedlock – or at least not realized not to be until then. Plus, Justin and Hilda have never been the greatest at keeping secrets," Betty rolled her eyes.

"No argument there," Christina light-heartedly agreed. "Okay - all done. Ready?" Christina asked, knowing Fiona, the woman who did alterations, would be waiting. Betty nodded and hit the call-button in the private dressing room, before Christina helped her walk through the long hallway to the alteration room. As Betty stepped onto the pedestal, she felt the room move for a few seconds.

"Are ye okay, love?" Christina worried. "Yeah, I'm fine! Just had to get used to standing on this thing," Betty feigned perkiness. "Alright, then! I see the beautiful bride is ready," an older, brunette woman came into the room. "Appears a bit of the length will have to be taken up, however the rest of the dress is fitting properly," Fiona replied as she studied Betty in her gown.

"Try like two feet!" Betty joked. Christina snickered along with her. Fiona smiled. "At least ye'll have on yer heels," Christina pointed out. "I have them on _now_!" Betty reminded her. "Oh - right," Christina laughed as the seamstress finished pinning Betty's gown. Betty winced. "Sorry – didn't mean to prick you," Fiona apologized, noticing Betty flinch.

"No – no it's not you – I . . . I just felt this sharp pain in my stomach," Betty uneasily responded, rubbing her midsection. "Are you alright, dear?" Fiona asked, putting down her pins and standing up. "Oh, Betty – I think ye need to go to the hospital," Christina suggested. "No – thank you. I'm fine – really," Betty insisted until she sensed another cramp ensuing – this time working its way up her shoulder.

"_Ow! God_! Oh, _god_ – _ow!_" she grimaced, doubling over in agony. "Okay – we're gettin' ye out of that dress an' into a cab right now!" Christina commanded. Betty swallowed the lump in her throat and meekly acquiesced as they helped her into the dressing room.

"Ye want me to call Daniel fer ye?" Christina asked as she aided Betty into the cab. Betty shook her head. "He's already on the plane – you wouldn't be able to reach him . . . And – _aaahh _. . . And I don't want to freak him out if this turns out to be - _mmmm_ . . . Nothing . . ." Betty explained in between groans of discomfort.

"Besides, I don't want him worrying about me. This new job . . . _ooohh_ . . . is a really big step for him – he's nervous enough . . . _owww_ . . . as it is . . ." she added, desperate for Christina to respect her wishes. "Oh, alright, love. If yer sure ye want to leave Daniel in the dark . . . I suppose I won't stop ye. But I know Stuart would kill me if I didn't tell him right away . . ." Christina cautiously warned.

"I don't even know anything yet . . . aaaah . . . and I wouldn't hesitate if I didn't know . . . oooww . . . what this account means for him. Whatever this is, I can handle it," Betty maintained, trying to withstand the pain. "Oh, Betty. Ye always think of others befer yerself. Ye need to let Daniel take care of ye fer a change. After all the crap ye pulled him out of over the years, ye deserve to be a little selfish fer a change – logical at least," she frankly told her. Betty gave her a hurt look.

"Sorry - me an' my big mouth. I didn't mean to be so harsh – I just care about ye, that's all. I'll leave ye alone – it 's yer choice," Christina apologized, patting Betty's hand as the cab arrived at the emergency room drop-off.

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Daniel anxiously shifted in his first-class seat on the plane. It was taxiing after landing at Heathrow and he couldn't wait to get off of it and home to Betty. Texts and a few calls had kept him from going crazy worrying about her . . . missing her . . . but it was no substitute for the real thing.

And it had been one of the worst business trips he'd experienced, mainly because he hadn't found his footing in the ad industry yet. His superiors assumed with his experience as EIC of a magazine that negotiating an ad account would be nothing for him.

However, they failed to take into consideration that he wasn't very familiar with the terminology or the Irish language barriers. He had a hard enough time understanding the British sometimes. Grabbing his bag out of the overhead compartment, he continued to rehash the previous events in his mind.

Between his awkwardness and the unforgiving attitudes of his clients, his co-worker was unable to smooth things over and Daniel had managed to cost the agency their account - albeit a small account, but nonetheless, their account.

Thankfully, he wasn't fired . . . yet, anyway. But he felt like it was his first day at MODE all over again - all eyes on him, expecting him to know what he was doing, yet he didn't have a clue. Throwing his duffel bag into the trunk of the town car, he raked his fingers through his hair and got in.

He had just stood there in that conference room spouting out one dumbass comment after another, continuing to dig a hole so deep he couldn't climb out of it if his life depended on it. He wished Betty had been there – she could always find a way to pull him out of the messes he made.

Was that it? Did he screw up because he knew he didn't have a crutch to fall back on anymore? Maybe he couldn't do this alone . . . He longed for one of Betty's pep-talks. Or better yet, just to forget about everything that had happened the past two days and focus on all that was good in his life – Betty, their unborn child, their wedding, their new life and home together . . . _Those_ were things to take his mind off his new job.

Slinging the bag over his shoulder and thanking the driver, Daniel began walking up the path to their front door. _God_, he couldn't wait to see her smile, hear one of her positive lectures . . . even when his life was falling apart, she always made everything better.

As he entered the foyer, he was surprised to find Christina on her way up the stairs with a bag of sour cream & onion potato chips and a box of tissues. He thought she'd be back home with Stuart by now. Maybe she and Betty needed more girl-time or something.

"Movie night?" Daniel wondered, approaching her. "_Jesus, Daniel!_ Ye bloody scared me to death!" Christina jumped and turned around. "I'm sorry," he chuckled. "It's good to see you again," he hugged her. "Oh, ye too, ye big oaf!" she got over her shock and cracked a smile. "Betty upstairs?" he guessed.

"Yeah – but Daniel . . . there's somethin' ye need to know . . ." Christina tried to prepare him, but wasn't quick enough. Betty carefully hobbled down the steps in her gray sweatpants and Daniel's maroon Harvard crew t-shirt. "I'll leave ye two alone fer a bit," Christina muttered, excusing herself from the room. Daniel nodded, barely noticing Christina's absence. His eyes were solely focused on one woman.

"Oh, Betty! You have no idea how great it is to be home . . . see your beautiful face . . ." he caressed her cheek. "Hey, little one . . ." he quietly cooed, bending down to kiss Betty's stomach. She shuddered and suppressed a sob. Her reaction left unnoticed, Daniel lovingly embraced her, inhaling the scent of her hair.

"Daniel . . ." Betty gently tried to get his attention, trying to hold back her tears. "I had the most horrible three days . . ." he mumbled into her cheek before nuzzling her neck. "Being back here with you two makes me feel better already," he smiled tiredly. Betty gradually pulled away from him.

"Daniel . . . th-there's something I need to tell you . . ." her voice wavered as she apprehensively looked into his innocent blue eyes. How could she even say it? How could she break this man's heart after he had been so wonderful to her, so excited about being a father . . . she took a deep breath before managing to form the words. "I–I . . . l-lost our baby . . ." she sputtered, her chin quivering as the words came out.


	17. Chapter 17

_Thank you all for still reading and for your great responses! Here's the next chapter - enjoy! :)_

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Daniel stood there as Betty clung to him; his arms wrapped around her, but only by instinct. He couldn't comprehend anything at the moment - he just felt numb. "H-how did this happen?" he finally managed. Betty pulled away and wiped her tears.

"I-I don't know . . . I was at my fitting with Christina and all of a sudden I had these really bad cramps in my stomach. They went away after a while, so I brushed it off and told Christina not to worry. But then they got worse – I could feel them all the way in my shoulder . . ." she shakily began.

"So we went to the emergency room. They did an ultrasound and found I had an ectopic pregnancy . . . that it had ruptured," she choked back tears. "They had to rush me to surgery and repair the damage . . . I lost one of my fallopian tubes," she revealed. Daniel wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but it was obviously bad – any type of operation was, in his opinion.

"Oh, _god!_ Betty, why didn't you call me?" Daniel gently berated her, his voice cracking from devastation. Ironically he had thought the worst few days were over, that he could come home to something better, something happier.

"I'm sorry – you were on the plane, and I didn't want to worry you when you had that big negotiation . . . and by the time I found out it was serious . . . I just thought you deserved to be told in person . . . I'm so sorry, Daniel!" she began to cry.

"Shhh . . . It's okay . . . everything's going to be okay . . ." he held her, comforting her the best he knew how as tears ran down his own face. He couldn't believe their baby, the tiny life he and Betty had created, was gone. Sure, they hadn't planned to bring a child into the world so soon, but it didn't make the pain subside.

From the minute he found out Betty was pregnant, Daniel loved that baby. He was looking forward to teaching his child everything, laughing with it, loving it, giving it everything his parents, despite their fortune, failed to give him as a kid.

Now his child was dead. He didn't even have a chance to see it on an ultrasound, find out whether it was a boy or a girl . . . Not that it would've mattered either way. He would have loved it just the same. His heart ached. He and Betty were so happy. Why did something always have to screw up their lives together?

And why wasn't he told sooner? He knew it wouldn't have made a difference in the outcome, but there was something about the thought of not knowing when it happened, not being able to be there, unable to hold Betty's hand, be by her side before and after the procedure – even just talk to her . . . she must have been so scared . . . it tore him up inside.

He knew she had had Christina to take care of her and he was very grateful, but it wasn't the same. He knew Betty was trying to do the right thing by waiting and he wouldn't fathom telling her how he felt about it – at least not now. She was too fragile . . . her heart was breaking and she was still physically recovering as well, he assumed.

He just had to let it go and get through this with her. "Hey, let's get you in bed, okay? You need to rest," Daniel softly told her. Betty nodded and allowed him to carry her up the stairs. He tucked her in, planting a brief but loving kiss on her lips before beginning to leave. Betty reached for him, grabbing his hand.

"Don't go – stay with me until I fall asleep?" she pleaded. "Sure, whatever you need," Daniel laid down beside her, stroking her hair. He wished he could make it all go away for her, for both of them. Bring the baby back . . . bring their lives back to normal, where they were looking forward to the future.

"You wanna know something funny?" he asked, trying to take her mind off of the baby so she could get a restful sleep. "What?" she wondered, sniffling. "I got so nervous at the presentation that I started talking in an Irish accent," Daniel admitted, and started to laugh at himself. Betty began laughing too, until they were both hysterical.

"I even got this . . ." he softly added. Swallowing back the tears he pulled out a onesie from his pocket that said 'Kiss Me – I'm Not Irish, But I'm Still Cute'. "_Aww!_ That's so sweet . . . it would've been perfect . . ." she whispered, giving him a bittersweet smile. "Babe, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you upset all over again – I was only trying to make you smile . . ." Daniel apologized. He wasn't sure what to do.

"It's okay – you did. Even if it was only for a few minutes, it helped. But what can I do for you? I know how much you loved our child . . . you're hurting, too. I just feel so bad that I lost your baby . . . th-that I let you down . . ." she brought her hand up to his cheek. He gently held onto her wrist. "Hey, it wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault – you did _nothing_ _wrong_. You have to remember that, okay?" Daniel insisted, turning his head to kiss her palm. Betty meekly nodded.

"I'll be fine," he cleared his throat. "I'm more worried about you. Come on, just relax – I'll go turn off the light," he told her. "Daniel? Could you get me another pillow, first?" Betty asked. "Yeah, do you know where any are?" he asked, still unsure of where everything was since they'd moved. "There should be one in one of the other bedrooms' closets," she answered.

Daniel randomly went to the one directly across the hallway and opened up the closet door, finding a pillow at eye-level. His eyes briefly glanced down below and fell on the refinished rocking horse. The pillow immediately escaped his hands. He ran his fingers over the beloved heirloom, crouching down as his knees weakened and the flood began.

"Daniel? Did you find one? Daniel . . .?" Betty called and finally climbed out of bed and hobbled down the hall to check on him, after receiving no answer. She found him kneeling on the floor next to the rocking horse. Her heart broke all over again at what this was doing to him – what she had done to him.

"Oh, Daniel, I'm so sorry . . ." she cried, gently holding him as he wept into her stomach. He hated having her see him like this, knowing it would make her feel guilty no matter how many times he told her it wasn't her fault. But he couldn't stop the tears from falling.

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A little over a week had gone by. Christina had gone back to Edinborough the next morning. Betty was still recovering at home, but her assistant Emma was constantly running back and forth . . . scheduling video conferences, bringing proofs and drafts and mock-ups, making sure that their first issue's launch was still on schedule.

She might as well have gone to the office for all of the work she was doing at the house. The only consolation was that at least she was staying in bed for the most part. Daniel had read laparotomies took up to six weeks of recovery depending on the person, but there she was, basically acting like nothing had happened.

He worried that Betty was over-doing it not only physically, but mentally as well . . . burying herself in her work to forget about the pain - not that he wasn't doing the same. After the disastrous business trip, he had to do everything to make up for it - study the terms, work late hours . . . he couldn't lose this job.

Even though it wasn't easy for him to be out of his element, he was actually enjoying the challenge. And he couldn't deny that having a distraction was helpful. Work and the punching bag at the gym were what kept him sane recently.

He and Betty hadn't really talked after that first night. Well . . . they talked . . . but it was more what to get for dinner, how work was, what movie or TV show to watch, who was going to empty the dishwasher than anything serious. He wanted to talk . . . he knew they should, but every time he tried to bring it up she evaded the topic.

He didn't want to push her, only he knew keeping everything bottled inside, not continuing to grieve together wasn't healthy for them or for their relationship. However, he also didn't think constantly wallowing in their loss was good either. He didn't know what to do, really. He just wanted them to be okay again.

It was now the night of the launch party and Daniel tried everything he could to convince Betty to stay home and rest, but she refused. She claimed one night out wouldn't kill her after being cooped up in the house for two weeks and that it was her magazine so she had to be there.

Daniel just hoped she wouldn't collapse or feel too overwhelmed by the press. Under normal circumstances, he had complete faith in her. Sometimes she handled things better than he could. But tonight was different, she was vulnerable and under a lot of stress - two things the media preyed on. He was glad he'd be there as back-up.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay home?" Daniel attempted one last time to reason with her. "Daniel, for the thousandth time – I love you, but I'm _fine!_" Betty insisted, gingerly putting on her dress. "Now zip me up. I can't believe I still feel bloated . . ." she shook her head in disbelief.

"It's because you're still recovering. I'm sure the surgical site is sore and I _know_ it's swollen. It's not like you've given it much of a chance to heal . . ." he frankly pointed out. "Are you going to zip me up, or do I have to go to this thing backless?" she snapped, half-frustrated, half-joking. "That would be _really_ sexy, if you think about it . . ." he teased, trying to lighten her mood.

"_Daniel _. . ." Betty protested. "Ok . . ." he caved, kissing a trail up her back as he zipped her dress, causing an erotic shiver to go through her spine. "Babe, this really isn't fair . . . you know we can't do anything for another few weeks . . ." Betty turned around, molding her hands against Daniel's chest.

"Probably not until the wedding," he lowered his head down to hers. "The wedding . . . right . . ." she faked a smile and proceeded to put on her shoes. "Is something wrong?" Daniel wondered, something about her reaction seemed off. "No. Everything's fine – I promise," she assured him, not allowing him to see the true expression on her face.

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The launch party went off without a hitch. The venue was perfect, the food was great, and the music was current with a mix of British and American artists on the playlist. Everyone was buzzing about the magazine and amazed at what an incredible job Betty had done with it. The press was eating it up and she was sure the first issue would get rave reviews. She couldn't have asked for a more perfect night . . . until the press asked one last question - which escalated into many more . . .

"We heard you just lost a baby with New York's publishing heir, Daniel Meade. Did you plan this pregnancy?" a reporter asked. "Were you getting married because of it?" an editor from a tabloid inquired. "Is the wedding still on?" another wondered. "Are you planning on trying again?" yet another wanted to know. Betty froze.

The multiple questions about her personal life threw her. She knew they shouldn't have. It wasn't like she didn't expect the media to pounce on her. Daniel had been fighting off press from the time he could walk, so the mere association with him in an intimate way made her a target. Not to mention that she was now an EIC, herself. Plus, Justin had told her about Suzuki's over-the-top splash about their engagement, on Fashion TV. She just hadn't expected anyone to know about their baby.

She hadn't even told her family – what if they found out about it through the media? Her staff only knew because there was no other way of explaining her absence. And fortunately, they were kind enough not to bring it up. However, someone must have accidentally leaked the information to the press. Betty was being bombarded with questions and flashes from cameras, attempting to get her first reaction. She took a few seconds to regain her composure before speaking.

"This is a private matter between me and my fiancé. Unless you have any other questions that are related to the magazine, then let's call it a night. Thank you all for coming – I appreciate your support!" she replied before stepping off the stage. Daniel shielded her from the crowd of paparazzi as they headed out of the building and into the awaiting town car.

"You were great tonight. I don't think I could've done it better myself and this was only your first time," he smiled at her in awe. "Really? I was so nervous I thought for sure I'd do something stupid like forget to thank Lindsay or knock down the podium or something," she joked.

"Betty, you were amazing . . . the way you handled the press at the end . . . so polite and composed . . . you never lost your cool or freaked out. Truthfully, I was ready to pommel them . . . but you did the right thing. You just surprise me more and more every day," he gave her a look of admiration as he grazed his fingers against her cheek and softly kissed her. "You okay?" he wondered, noticing a distance between them.

"Mmm-hmm – I'm fine," she quickly feigned assurance. "You sure? The press was really rough on you," he made certain she wasn't just avoiding him. "Daniel, I'm fine. We've talked about this before – hell, I've helped you get away from them, made sure you didn't stick your foot in your mouth and start chewing, that you showed restraint at times. I know how brutal they can be. It's just the price of being in the industry," she reminded him that she wasn't clueless as they got out of the car.

"You're right. I'm just worried about you. You've had a really big night and have been working so hard the past two weeks, despite what Dr. Andrews told you," he explained his concern. "Daniel, I'm okay. Really," she told him as they walked in the front door of their home.

"All I want to do now is take a long hot shower and go to bed," she removed her LouBoutins and motioned for him to unzip her dress, before pushing her aching feet up the stairs. "Don't forget –" Daniel began. "To tape saran wrap over my stitches. Yeah, I know," she scoffed, amused at how attentive he had become of her post-op care.

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As Betty shampooed her hair, she recalled the events of the evening, her mind sticking on the last questions of the reporters. She loved Daniel more than anything, but was it really fair of her to marry him knowing she might never be able to give him a child of his own to hold and raise? She rinsed her hair, closing her eyes, letting the warm water trickle down her face as her fears flowed through her head.

She didn't think Daniel realized how much her chances had decreased since having the miscarriage. How much they had increased in having another ectopic pregnancy. She'd tried not to think about it. She couldn't even talk about the loss of their child anymore, much less deal with this.

But the time of their wedding was getting closer . . . she couldn't put this off much longer. She ran the soapy loofa over her skin, careful not to irritate the surgical site. She couldn't tie him down like that – not when Daniel had shown how much he had wanted to be a father . . . with DJ . . . with their own unborn child . . .

But she didn't want to let him go . . . she couldn't lose everything . . . not now . . . not all at once . . . She slumped to the bottom of the tiled shower floor, the water of the stainless head washing away the tears that continued to stream down her face.

"Hey, babe – I just wanted to get my stuff out of the closet and change . . ." Daniel came in the bathroom and suddenly noticed Betty huddled in the bottom corner of the shower with her head in her hands. "Betty! Oh my god! Are you okay?" he exclaimed, turning off the water although unable to avoid getting soaked in the process.

He grabbed a towel and sat down next to her, wrapping it and his arms around her as she proceeded to cry. "Did you hurt yourself?" he asked, gently lifting her chin up. She slowly shook her head, before burying it back in his chest. He kissed the top of her wet head and breathed deeply, unsure of how to help her.


	18. Chapter 18

_It's been a while, but here's the next chapter. Thank you for still reading and responding! :)_

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"Do you want to talk about it?" Daniel asked as Betty eventually quieted. She shook her head. "I'm fine," she told him, upset with herself for letting him see her this way. She needed to clear her head. Being near Daniel made her lose her inhibitions; forget that she seriously needed to think about letting him go. He didn't deserve to be deprived of something he'd wanted for so long. He deserved everything . . .

"Betty, don't lie to me. I found you here, broken down – you're not fine – you're a wreck. Tell me what's wrong – let me help you!" he pleaded. "Nothing, okay? Now can you pull me up and let me get ready for bed? I'm just tired," she snapped.

"It's what those jackass reporters said, isn't it? Damn it! I should've taken them down! You were so great, I didn't see past that to realize how much it must have hurt you . . ." Daniel assumed, as he lifted Betty up from the shower floor and held her in his arms. God, he felt so good, so warm and comforting – no! She needed to focus – it wasn't about her. And his protectiveness just made all of it worse . . .

"No – Daniel just leave it, okay? It doesn't matter – they were just doing their job," she brushed him off and went to the counter to find her underwear. "Their job shouldn't be to hound my fiancée, who just lost our baby," he grumbled, removing his wet clothes, searching for a dry pair of boxers and PJ bottoms.

"Daniel, please just let it go – I don't want to talk about it," she begged him to stop, as she gingerly removed the wet saran wrap from her incision and slipped one of his t-shirts over her head as a night-shirt.

"I think we need to discuss this. Some of those same questions the media brought up . . . I've been wondering about them myself. We haven't exactly been open about what happened. I feel like we're drifting away from each other . . ." Daniel confessed, as he followed her into their bedroom. "I can't deal with this right now, Daniel," she insisted, yanking the covers back from the bed.

"When _can_ you deal with this, Betty? It's like you think if you don't talk about it, it'll just disappear. I've tried to let you grieve alone, but it's not helping you or me. We need to sit down and discuss this – I know it's hard but you can't keep everything bottled up inside," he said, his anger and frustration building up.

"What do you want me to say? Our baby is dead, Daniel. We can't fix that." she bluntly stated, as the bitter yet all too true words rolled off her tongue. Daniel just stood there, silent. He'd never seen her like this. It was almost as if she was a different person – cold . . . rigid . . . She could tell it was what he was feeling, but had to do it, had to get him off her back long enough to think.

"I know talking is the last thing you want to do, but it would help . . . Maybe we should go to grief counseling or something?" he suggested, desperate for her to let him in, so much that her heart bled for him. But she had to pull herself together. "Grief counseling isn't going to help. It's not going to bring back our child. It's not –" she suppressed a sob, knowing it wouldn't help give them another . . . help her stay with Daniel without a guilty conscience.

"We have to do _something!_" Daniel insisted, plopping down on the bed. Betty took a deep breath. "You're right. We do. I think I need some space . . . time alone to think . . ." she said. "Okay, we can talk tomorrow –" he agreed, laying his head down on the pillow. "No, Daniel. I mean a few days . . . maybe more . . . I need to be by myself, okay?" she told him. She didn't want to do it, but she had to in order to gain any perspective at all.

He shot up. "Baby, this is insane! How is this helping anything?" he exclaimed. "Daniel, please. Can you just go? I need this," she pleaded. "Betty –" he protested. "Please?" she begged. Daniel reluctantly caved. "Fine. But I'm not going far – just the guest room. And you can't do this forever. You have to face this – face us," he told her, softly kissing her lips before he unwillingly left. Betty laid back down on the now empty bed and silently cried.

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". . . I just didn't know who else to turn to. You're the only one I knew who might understand what I'm going through. I just need some insight. But I'll understand if it's too personal for you," Daniel began. "It's alright, Dan. We're gonna be family pretty soon and families help each other out. I don't know how much help I'll be, but I can give it a shot," Bobby said.

"Thanks. . . I-I don't know what to do. It's been a week since the launch party. Betty won't talk to me and now she's shut herself in our room and will only let her assistant, Emma, in there. She claims she needs 'space' and 'time alone to think'. Our house is big enough to where she manages to avoid me most of the time I'm home. I just sleep in one of the guest rooms," Daniel revealed.

"I know she's having a hard time – I am, too. But the way she's been distancing herself from me . . . I'm starting to wonder if she loves me anymore," he admitted. The very thought crushed his heart, but he knew he had to face the possibility.

"I'm sorry, man - that's rough. I wish I knew what to tell you. These Suarez sisters are proud, stubborn and independent. When we lost our child, it wasn't easy to get through. There were a couple days when Hilda wanted time to herself, but it was nothin' compared to what you've told me about Betty. Is there anythin' else going on with you guys? Did you have a fight about somethin' before all this happened?" Bobby asked.

"No – we were good . . . happy . . . ready to start our future together. We were moving into our new house, getting ready for the wedding, excited about the baby . . ." Daniel answered. "Was she seriously excited about the baby?" Bobby wondered.

"Yeah, I mean we hadn't planned it or anything and she was worried about dealing with it and her magazine, but she wanted this child – _I_ wanted this child . . . I've wanted a child ever since my nephew . . ." Daniel trailed off. He had come to terms with the fact that he wasn't DJ's father, but the memory still stung.

"Maybe that's it – maybe that's why she's shuttin' you out. She knows how much you wanna be a father and is afraid there's a chance she can't give that to you," Bobby said. "What? That's crazy! Betty knows I wouldn't care if that happened," Daniel denied the chance that maybe she didn't. She had to know that he loved her more than that.

"I'm just sayin' . . . Chicks have a way of over-thinkin' things – blowin' 'em out of proportion, gettin' insecure. They need to hear you say the words sometimes," Bobby warned. Daniel thought about what Bobby just said, but Betty wasn't like that. Betty did over-analyze things sometimes, but she wasn't needy. She didn't have to be told every two seconds that he'd never leave her side.

Sure, she had had her doubts and insecurities in the beginning - and rightfully so - but she should know by now that nothing would ever cause him to stop loving her . . . wanting to be with her. As much as he wanted a child, he wanted Betty more. And if they couldn't have one, it would hurt. But being without Betty would kill him . . . "Have you told her it doesn't matter?" Bobby inquired.

"We haven't really talked about anything like that – if and when we want to try again . . . other options . . . I wouldn't have even known that she might have trouble conceiving or carrying a child now, if I hadn't looked it up online. She won't say anything about the baby . . . and now she'll barely speak to me at all. I can't figure out what I've done or haven't done to make her so upset with me," Daniel raked his fingers through his hair in frustration as he paced back and forth in the guest room.

"It's probably not your fault – just miscommunication . . . or lack of it or somethin'. But I think you've given Betty plenty of time alone. You need to tell her how you feel – make her listen to you, let her know you're not givin' up. You can't live like this forever, man," Bobby advised.

"You're right. I've been trying so hard not to push her, to let her deal with it on her own, but it's not going away. She's obviously not okay and I'm not doing much better. It's killing me that I can't help her – that she won't even let me try," Daniel said.

"You've gotta fight like hell, if you love her at all. Not talkin' – that's just askin' for your relationship to get screwed – trust me," Bobby told him. "Thanks, Bobby. I really appreciate your help – even just letting me vent," Daniel said. "Anytime, Daniel. You're a good guy – hang in there. And let me know how it goes," Bobby told him. "Thanks, I will. Bye," Daniel hung up and sighed.

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"Betty, we need to talk," Daniel knocked on the door to their room. "Daniel, I told you – I'll let you know when I'm ready," Betty resisted. "What about me? What if _I'm_ ready? You can't shut me out forever, Betty," he said. "Not now, okay?" she told him. "It's been long enough," Daniel said. "I need more time!" Betty insisted.

"Betty, I swear to god if you don't unlock this door I'm gonna break the damn thing down!" he threatened. She knew he was serious – he'd only broken down a door once before, and that was a matter of life and death. She reluctantly closed her laptop and got up, silently opening the door before climbing back on the bed.

Daniel followed, nervous, but determined to get something out of her or at least voice his feelings. "I'm sorry for barging in here . . . Wait – no, I'm not. You've been pushing me away ever since we lost the baby and I don't understand why. Was it something that I did? Something I said that made you feel like you couldn't talk to me? We promised to tell each other if we had a problem - not run away. And I know while you physically haven't left me, mentally you have," Daniel began.

"It's not you, okay? It's me. I can't think clearly when you're around and I know if I'm going to make a decision about what comes next you need to at least be in another room," Betty responded. "Decision? You mean for the magazine?" he asked, confused. "No, about us . . . I-I'm beginning to think I'm not what you need . . . that maybe you'd be better off with someone who can give you everything you've ever wanted. Things I might not be able to," she revealed, her voice trembling.

"A-Are you saying you don't love me anymore?" Daniel slowly asked. His heart was sinking, he knew this might be coming but nothing could prepare him for hearing her rejection. "_No!_ _God_, Daniel! I love you so much it hurts – that's why these past few weeks have been so hard for me. I-I don't want to let you go, but I-I just think you'd be better off without me . . ." she lowered her head, trying to hold back her tears.

"What do you mean? Betty, you're all I could ever want or need. I can't breathe without you – I've tried. I love you with everything in me," he assured her, cupping her face. He studied her expression for a moment, taking in everything she had been telling him. "Is this about losing our baby?" Daniel wondered.

Betty nodded. "I'm not all that you want or need – I can't promise you a child. There's a chance it won't happen, and you want to be a father – you _need_ to be a father. I couldn't live with myself if I denied you that just so I could be with you," she explained.

"Betty, life is about taking chances. You should know that by now. You took a chance on me when you came back to MODE, after that week of hell I put you through . . . I took a chance on you as my assistant . . . we took a chance on each other as friends . . . as more . . . you took a chance on moving here . . . and so did I," he took her hand.

"You can't stay in a bubble forever. Sometimes we try and we fail, but other times we get what we want . . . or something that turns into so much more than we ever expected," he smiled and softly brushed her lips. "And if we fail . . . if I can't give you a child of your own?" she timidly asked. "Then we try something else. There are so many options now – IVF, a surrogate, adoption . . ." he pointed out. "Adoption? Don't you want your baby to be biologically yours?" she wondered.

"Betty, when I found out DJ wasn't technically my son, I won't say I wasn't disappointed. But you saw me – I still wanted to be a father to him more than anything. After the initial blow, I realized it didn't matter to me whether he was my son or not. And I would've taken DJ away from his grandparents, if you hadn't reasoned with me. My point is, I loved him regardless and would do the same if we were to adopt. Just because you aren't a biological father or mother doesn't mean you can't be a good parent," he told her.

"True – it doesn't. But I know you – deep inside you want that child to be yours through and through. I can't risk letting you down – _I won't!_" she stubbornly said before attempting to get up. Daniel immediately pulled her back down. "_But Daniel_ . . ." she protested. "_No!_ You don't get to do that! You don't get to decide for me and just walk away! This involves _both_ of us! And I know you, too - you put on a tough act, but underneath you're really scared," he countered. Betty bowed her head reluctantly.

"Look at me," Daniel gently lifted her chin; his tone slightly softened but still stood firm. "_You_ are the woman I chose to spend the rest of my life with. _You_ are it for me - _period_. Having a child means nothing to me if I don't have you to share it with. So this noble BS about me needing to be with someone else isn't gonna fly. "You're the only woman I want to have a baby with – whether it's naturally or any other way," he adamantly told her.

"Say we do try again . . . and again . . . so many times and methods that we end up having to adopt? That process is grueling and they go through an extensive background check. No offense, but you haven't always been squeaky clean – your sex addiction, drug addiction, that cult – not to mention your family's criminal past," Betty considered.

"And I aided and abetted fugitives, my father allegedly killed a man in Mexico and hid under an alias for decades without having a visa in America . . . We might not get approved, no matter how clean cut we really are," she speculated.

"And what if we do get approved? What if one or both of the birth parents decide five or ten years later they want their child back – or even when it's born? People change their minds. And don't tell me that it doesn't happen, because it does," Betty added.

"Or what if our child ends up hating us or feels we're not enough, like Amanda or Tyler did, and years later decides to find their birth parents and reject us? I'm not saying I want to keep their adoption a secret from them, they should be told as soon as they're old enough to understand, but . . ." she frantically rambled.

"Baby, your mind is going into overdrive. We might try again and be fine – not even need to adopt unless we decide we want to. You can't obsess over what might or might not happen in our lives," he tried to calm her down.

"Daniel, all I'm saying is we might not have that option if everything else we try fails, and even if we do, it could turn out to be a disaster. You won't be able to accept that – I know you won't. You'll try, but secretly you'll end up resenting me, regretting you married me instead of someone else," she said. "Would you resent _me_ if _I_ turned out to be our problem?" Daniel pointed out.

"Of course not, but –" she said. "Then you can't assume that I would resent you – that's not fair. I can't promise you that we won't have stressful times or that we'll never fight. There are a lot of factors involved in having a baby – and that's not even including raising it. But I swear to you that I will always love and support you through everything. And I will never - _ever_ – resent you. You have my heart – believe that," he assured her, kissing the top of her hand and holding it to his heart. "Believe in us," he said.

". . . I do. I'm so sorry, Daniel. I was trying to make it easier for you, but I ended up making it worse," she apologized; her thumb caringly smoothed the rumpled hair along his forehead and ran down his jawline. "I want you to be happy. I don't want to ever be the reason why you're not," she apologized, as his arms encircled her and he held her tight.

"Hey, it's okay. Just don't shut me out, again. I know you're hurting, but I am, too. We need to lean on each other, get through this together - as a team. You and me – like it's always been. And I know it's going to take some time, emotionally and physically, before we're ready to try again. But I'm here for you - no matter what happens. Remember that," Daniel insisted, brushing a piece of hair away from her eyes. Betty nodded and pulled him towards her again.

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"You know, I doubt we'll have trouble with the conceiving part – you got pregnant our first time and that was with tons of protection," Daniel joked, weaving his fingers in and out of hers. "Well, you Meade men are apparently very fertile," she allowed a small smile to form on her face. Daniel chuckled as they lay quietly spooned together, her bare foot casually hiking up the leg of his jeans.

"Too bad, because I was looking forward to trying again . . . and again . . . and again . . ." he said, creating a trail of kisses from her hand to her shoulder. "Doesn't mean we still can't have fun if we're not . . ." she rolled over on her opposite side to face him, toying with the buttons on his shirt, teasing his bottom lip.

"Daniel, what are you doing? You know we can't do anything yet," she giggled as he crept up her fitted tank top. "I was just checking your scar – making sure it was being well-taken care of," he replied, delicately kissing around her wound before removing the bandage to take a peek.

"Mmm . . . I think it's just an excuse to play doctor," she giggled. "What? I am _shocked_ that you would think that of me. I will have you know that since my family owns a hospital wing, I've learned a lot about medicine," he feigned offense.

"Really? Well then, Dr. Meade, as your patient, I'm not so sure I believe you. You might have a malpractice suit coming, because that is _definitely_ not where my incision is," she slyly smiled as she felt his hands slink much further up her shirt, massaging her breasts. "Physical therapy," he defended himself. "Mmm . . . as long as it doesn't get much more physical than this, then I guess I'll have to follow the doctor's orders," she playfully conceded, capturing his lips with hers.

"Three more weeks . . ." he devilishly grinned, closing the remaining space between them as he matched her kiss then deepened it, his fingers getting tangled in hair. "Three more weeks . . ." she slyly smiled. "Until you're officially mine - in every way . . ." he said, playing with the ring on her finger. "And you're sure?" she looked up at him timidly. "Baby, we've been over this not two hours ago – I don't know how many more ways I can say it. I'm _positive_," he assured her.

"Good. Because I want this, too," she happily sighed. "Good. So no more obsessing. Just relax. We still have a lot to look forward to," he made her promise. "K," she agreed, as they silently laid there. She tried to simply enjoy the warmth and closeness of him, the beat of his heart, the safeness of his arms around her . . . she had missed that.

". . . Whenever we have another child, I think we should name it after Bobby. He's the one who told me I needed to get through to you, that us not talking was making it worse," Daniel finally spoke. "_Aww_ . . . He's a really good brother-in-law . . . So, Roberto Meade?" Betty pondered. "Ehhh . . . I was thinking more like Robert – Jordan Robert Meade," he suggested.

"Jordan? Isn't that the name of the girl you and Alexis both slept with when she was still Alex?" she raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah . . ." he realized. "I don't think so! We're not naming our kid after any of our exes – at least the ones we can _remember . . ._" she smirked.

"_Hey!_ See, she obviously wasn't important to me – you should be glad I forgot her," he defended himself. "_You_ weren't the one who once spent an entire day getting your boss' dirty underwear - amongst other things – literally thrown in your face because he slept with so many women that week he couldn't remember where he left his damn watch!" she smacked his arm. "_Ow!_ Okay, okay! I'm more sensitive, now – I learned my lesson – and my player days are _definitely_ over . . . Liam Robert?" he proposed.

"Liam's nice – wait – you realize it's short for William, the name of your almost half-brother?" she pointed out. "I didn't think about that . . ." he said. "And Billy is also short for William. Do you really want to risk the chance of our son being called Billy Bob?" she said with a southern twang. They both cracked up. "Definitely out! How about Nikolas – it's my middle name?" he threw out. "Nikolas Robert Meade . . . I like it – but what if we have a girl? Neither one of those names will work," she pointed out.

"Roberta?" he joked. "Daniel – no!" she giggled. "What do you think about Gabriella?" she said. "Gabriella Elizabeth Meade . . ." he considered. "Elizabeth? Is she royalty?" Betty joked. "We can always hope . . . No – I just thought that was what your full name was?" he assumed. "If you ever paid attention to my employee file at MODE, it's really Beatriz Maria," she smirked. "But I like Elizabeth much better," she smiled.

"You know, this was much easier than what most people make it out to be," Daniel said. "Yeah, it was. Most couples bring out books and they argue 'til the baby comes over what to name it. Sometimes even then they can't agree," Betty shook her head. "I guess we just think alike," he smiled, kissing her temple. "Most of the time," she agreed, then frowned. "What?" he wondered. "I feel . . . guilty . . ." she admitted. "For what?" he asked.

"For starting to feel happy again . . . for thinking about our future . . . for even talking about having another child when we just lost one . . . It's almost as if we're replacing it – forgetting it ever existed," she confessed. ". . . I think it's okay to be happy again – to want another child. And we're not going to forget," he told her. "Come on – I have an idea," he rubbed her leg and helped her up. "Where are we going?" she asked. "Just trust me – I think this will make both of us feel better," he promised.

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"There!" Daniel said as he finished digging a hole in their backyard for the multi-colored geraniums they had bought in their baby's memory. "Have you got your note?" he asked. "Yeah – right here," she said as she kissed it and placed both hers and his letter into the small envelope entitled 'Baby Suarez-Meade' then tied the strings of the light green and bear-shaped balloons to it. "You ready?" he asked.

"I don't think I'll ever be ready," she sniffled. "I know. Me neither," he solemnly confessed, a tear running down his cheek as he covered her hand that held the balloons. "Your mom and I loved you very much," he shakily said. "We just wish you had stuck around long enough for us to meet you," Betty added in between soft sobs. "We hope you're in a safe and happy place," Daniel wished. "We'll never forget you," she promised, giving Daniel a look saying it was okay to let go.

As they released the balloons, they watched them float away into the sky and held each other tight, their emotions unhindered as they tried to give closure to their loss. After a while, Betty lifted her head from Daniel's shoulder and shifted in his arms to see his face.

"How did you come up with this?" she asked, using the pads of her thumbs to sweep the remaining tears from his eyes. "I don't know . . . it's just I knew funerals and memorials helped people grieve, move on . . . So I figured having a small ceremony of our own might be good for us. And the flowers . . . that way we'd have a way of remembering every year," he humbly replied, his voice hoarse from crying.

"Thank you. I needed this," she half-smiled. "We both did," he said, gently bringing his lips to her forehead. "We're gonna be okay, aren't we?" Betty timidly spoke. It was more of an observation than a question. "Yeah, we're gonna be okay," Daniel replied, as their foreheads met.


	19. Chapter 19

_Hi! So sorry it's been so long, but I do have a few new chapters. Thank you so much for reading and for all of your reviews - they mean a lot to me! We're nearing the end of Daniel & Betty's story, but I think you'll enjoy the last few additions to it - at least I hope, lol. :)_

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The day of Daniel and Betty's wedding came before they knew it. It was a warm change from the sadness that had surrounded them the past months. Now they had their family and closest friends to help celebrate the bond between them. The connection that had grown deeper and stronger with every year they had known each other, with every tragedy or joy that had happened to one or both of them.

"Are you ready, my little Chimichanga? Ugh, I can't believe yet _another_ hetero couple is about to tie the knot – we can _never_ get a break –" Marc started to complain. "_Marc . . ._ You promised no comments. Now you're positive this online ordained priest certification is real – because I don't want to find out five years from now that Daniel's not legally my husband," Betty checked.

"Yes, my British Bridezilla, don't worry your hairspray-plastered head about it. My ceremonial skills are legit," Marc insisted. "Now let's do something with that makeup – you're all blotchy from this jittery sob-fest. Mandy – get my emergency kit," he told her. "What _is_ all this stuff?" Betty asked as Marc rifled through a makeup bag. "It's what Wilhelmina had him use on her bad days – most of it's foreign and not FBI approved, but it works in a pinch," Amanda shrugged.

"I'm not going to break out even more, am I?" Betty cautiously inquired. "Probably not – right, Marc?" Amanda tried to assure her. "Willie's been using this stuff for years – you'll be fine," Marc scoffed. "Hilda? Christina? Should I trust them?" Betty called, needing unbiased opinions. They turned around from the large mirror in the castle's parlor to comment just as a voice answered for them.

"The skin tone-evening cream is fine – questionably manufactured – but fine. However, the moisturizer is oily and will ruin your pores. I'll spare you the ghastly horror of what it's _really_ made out of . . ." Claire responded, entering the room. Amanda cringed and gingerly dropped it back in the bag.

"Claire!" Betty exclaimed, surprised, thinking she'd be helping Daniel get ready. "You didn't think I'd forget my favorite daughter-in-law, did you?" she smiled, giving Betty a hug. "I'm so happy for you both," Claire told her. "Thank you! How's Daniel?" Betty wondered.

"A nervous wreck, afraid he won't remember his vows. I caught him trying to sneak off to see you. You have always had a way with him. But I told him it was bad luck to see the bride before the wedding," Claire answered. "I'd better go to him – he's probably flipping out right now, wearing a hole in the floor. I told him he didn't have to memorize what he wanted to say," Betty headed for the door. "Betty, sit down," Claire commanded, smiling and shaking her head.

"Daniel's a big boy now. He needs to learn to handle these things for himself . . . And you need to learn to let him. You're going to be his _wife_ – not his mother. Love him and support him, but don't baby him. _That _is my sound advice to you," she told Betty. She nodded, agreeing to heed Claire's words. "Besides, Alexis is already telling him to 'suck it up and be a man', despite the immense irony in that phrase coming from her mouth," Claire mused. Betty giggled.

"I have something for you . . . My grandmother wore them when she got married, and I want you to have them," Claire revealed a pair of blue turquoise and diamond antique earrings. "Oh, Claire I couldn't –" Betty politely hesitated, taken aback by her generous offer.

"I insist. I know I'm not your mother and could never replace her in your heart, but I've thought of you like a daughter for quite some time now. You have always been very special to me, Betty, and I want you to officially feel a part of this family," Claire told her. "Aww . . . Thank you! You mean a lot to me, too," Betty hugged her, trying not to cry. "Well, I'd better let you finish getting ready. Good luck, dear," Claire smiled as she broke from their embrace and left.

"Well, that was sweet of Mrs. Meade to stop by. What did she give you?" Hilda asked as Christina finished zipping up her dress. Betty walked over to the mirror and showed both of them the earrings. "They're gorgeous!" Hilda drooled over them. "These are antiques – a rare vintage style. They must be worth a bloody fortune!" Christina's jaw dropped wide open. "Vintage? Fortune? You'd better let me borrow them sometime!" Amanda demanded as she immediately left Marc to fix his own tie, bounding over for a look.

"I hate to break up the fashion show, ladies, but we've only got twenty-five minutes to get the bride in her gown and get out there. And judging by all those empanadas she ate this morning, it might take all day," Marc interrupted the girls. Betty rolled her eyes and glared at him. "Hey – don't blame me when we can't fit all that pudginess into your dress," he held his hands up in defense. "I eat when I'm nervous – I can't help it!" she innocently protested.

"I know. That's why _someone_ should've distracted you - _Mandy . . .!"_ he jabbed Amanda. "_Ow!_ What? I couldn't hurt Uncle Papi's feelings . . . !" she whined. "You were supposed to be on Queen B duty – not stuffing your _own_ face with an entire plate of them! Do I have to remind you of the 'big-ass' summer a few years ago?" Marc scolded.

"Okay, Marc – enough with the insults, already! You're not helping my sister or anyone else for that matter. If you can't make yourself useful, wait outside until we let you know Betty's dressed," Hilda snapped. "Bitchy . . ." he mocked. "_Out!_" Hilda and Christina both shoved him out the door. "I don't know how ye two put up with him. He gets on meh nerves – an' when I was pregnant with little William, I wanted to kick his scrawny arse!" Christina shook her head. "It's an acquired taste . . ." Betty laughed.

"Let's get you into that gorgeous gown, Mamita!" Hilda tried to steer the focus back on the bride. They all aided Betty into her gown and fixed her veil. "I can't believe my baby sister's getting married . . ." Hilda cried. "And to a sexy millionaire!" she added. "_Hilda . . ."_ Betty warned. "Sorry. I know Daniel's a really great guy and you love him for _him_. I'm just happy he can take care of you, that's all – plus a little extra cash never hurts, right?" she explained herself. Betty rolled her eyes.

"I know, I know - not that you need it. You've been taking care of yourself and our family for a long time. And you're a fancy editor-in-chief, now. Pretty soon you'll be making millions of your own, doing all those great things you always dreamed about . . . I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't be getting all emotional, but I can't help it . . ." she trailed off.

"Now, you've got the blue earrings, your new dress, the shoes I wore at my wedding, and Mami's veil. I think that covers it!" she sniffed, trying to control her tears. "Hilda, you're not pregnant, are you?" Betty wondered, noticing her sister was twice as emotional as normal and had eaten twice as many empanadas as she and Amanda had had that morning. Not to mention, she hadn't indulged herself in a celebratory mimosa.

"Whaaaat? No . . . Are you kidding?" she attempted to brush Betty's suspicions off. Betty crossed her arms, giving her a perceptive look. "Okay, you got me – Three months," she confessed. "That's wonderful, love!" Christina exclaimed. "Congratulations! Well, except for the getting fat part – I wouldn't wish _that_ on anybody!" Amanda chimed in.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Betty asked, hurt. "At first, we wanted to make sure . . . and then, there was no way we could tell you . . . and I didn't wanna ruin your big day – there was never a right time to say anything," she solemnly admitted. "Aww . . . Hilda, you didn't have to hide it from us – it's a _good_ thing. I'm happy for you and Bobby!" Betty told her sister.

"Really? You aren't upset or jealous or something?" Hilda skeptically questioned. "Really. Well . . . maybe a _little_ jealous. But I'll get over it," she smiled. "Thank you," Hilda sniffled, hugging her younger sister. "I can't believe I'm going to be an aunt again!" Betty marveled. "And you'll be a _mama_ someday, too. One way or another – it'll happen," Hilda assured Betty. "I hope so," Betty said, drying her tears.

"Careful, don't smear your makeup!" she warned, realizing what time it was. "We have _got_ to get you dressed and outta here before Daniel starts to think you stood him up!" she half-joked. "Yeah, I think he's nervous enough as it is, from what Claire said," Betty giggled, grabbing her bouquet. Christina and Amanda gave her their final best wishes before rushing to take their seats in the courtyard.

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"Did you guys ever have trouble remembering your vows?" Daniel asked Bobby and Ignacio as he apprehensively paced around the room. "Hilda wanted us to write up everythin' and memorize it. Only, I kept puttin' it off and pretty much had to wing it," Bobby shrugged. "I'll admit I freaked out a little bit at first, but once I got goin', it came easily. You just say it from the heart, you know?" he added.

"Rosa and I only recited the traditional lines. All I had to do was repeat after the priest. But you know what, Mijo? I was so nervous, I stuttered the first few lines and then dropped the ring when I tried to place it on Rosa's finger," Ignacio smiled fondly at the memory. "And then I remembered the lucky handkerchief my father had given me; it was passed down from my grandfather on his wedding day. I knew that if they could get through it, I could too," he said, holding a handkerchief out to Daniel.

"And now it's time for you to have it," Ignacio smiled. "Oh, Ignacio – I couldn't –" Daniel said, surprised at the gesture. "You are my son, now – just like Bobby is. It is your turn to wear it," Ignacio insisted. "Thank you," Daniel smiled and placed the handkerchief in his jacket pocket.

"Wait – didn't you give me the same one for my wedding to Hilda?" Bobby pulled Ignacio aside. "_Hush_, Mijo. There is no family handkerchief. It's just something I made up to calm you boys down," Ignacio revealed. "Oh," Bobby sheepishly smiled.

"Alright, Danny Boy, I found your boutonnière," Alexis scurried in the dressing room and proceeded to pin it on her brother. Daniel stiffened, predicting an inevitable prick from the pin. "You, know what? On second thought I'll let Mom do this. You're always such a baby about these things," she smirked, detecting his fear. "Shut up, Alex," Daniel grumbled, not wanting to start anything. "Oh, _awesome_ comeback! How long did it take ya to think of _that_ one, Einstein?" Alexis obnoxiously retorted. Daniel began to lunge at her.

"Gentlemen – er ladies – er – enough!" Ignacio tried to come between them when Claire appeared. "_Boys_, don't make me have to separate you two!" she threatened. "Sorry, Mom!" they both mumbled as Ignacio and Bobby snuck out of the room, unseen.

"Alexis, why must you antagonize your brother on his big day?" Claire reprimanded her eldest child. "And Daniel, why do you play right into your sister's hands? She's been doing this since you were both still in diapers," she grabbed the flower and pinned it on her middle son. "Now apologize to each other before the guests begin to wonder why we haven't started the ceremony yet – Tyler and Justin just informed me that they're getting restless," she commanded.

"Danny, I'm sorry. You know I love ya and I'm happy for ya. It's just easier to mess with ya – crying's a bitch with these stupid hormones," Alexis joked. "Thanks, Alexis," Daniel smiled and hugged his sister. "_Damn_, you're gonna make me do it, anyway," she complained, shedding a few tears. "Payback," he chuckled. "Come on, we've gotta get you hitched," Alexis dried her eyes and led her brother out to the courtyard.


	20. Chapter 20

_Thanks, everyone! I won't keep you in suspense any longer, lol! :)_

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Daniel impatiently waited in his black Armani tuxedo at the peony and rose-covered altar, the arch a ray of plum and white. Alexis, wearing a black triangular-halter Halston dress with thin white straps and trim at the top, gently patted her brother's shoulder in reassurance.

As a violinist played Sonny and Cher's "I Got You, Babe", Hilda came down the aisle in a deep reddish-purple satin strapless Oscar de la Renta dress with brooch-like beading at the waist and a high-low hemline, carrying a bouquet of white calla lilies. Betty followed, on her father's arm, in her ivory-colored satin strapless Vera Wang gown with subtle beaded metallic embroidery, chapel pick-up train, and champagne-colored sash that draped around her waist, tying in a long bow in the back.

Daniel couldn't take his eyes off of her; she looked more beautiful than he ever could have imagined. Knowing in a few short minutes she would be his wife made him grin uncontrollably from ear to ear. Betty caught his gaze and couldn't help but grin, herself. He looked so sexy in his tux and she found it hard to believe she was actually walking down the aisle to marry such an amazing man.

As she finally reached him, she was silently thankful for not tripping and falling in Hilda's four inch Manolos – especially since she was just getting used to her new contacts Hilda and Justin had given her a few days ago, insisting a bride 'couldn't be caught dead in glasses'.

After Ignacio kissed her cheek and shook Daniel's hand, Betty gave her eggplant-colored calla lily bouquet to Hilda and took Daniel's hands in hers, nervously exhaling. "Are you ready for this?" she whispered. "More than anything," Daniel smiled.

"Listen up, people! We are gathered here today to witness the joining of two more straight people in holy fashion matrimony. I'll admit, when Betty walked into MODE with her hideous poncho and blinding metal mouth grin I thought that Mexican mess didn't have a chance in hell of surviving a day – much less four years. And I certainly wouldn't have thought she could've snagged herself a _mildly_ attractive man – much less New York's most eligible bachelor," Marc began.

It took everything in both Betty and Daniel not to strangle him for being his vocal opinionated self. However, after Daniel sent him stern looks and Betty discreetly stepped on his foot with her stiletto, they gave him another chance to redeem himself.

"_Ow!_ But the more I saw Betty and Daniel together, the more I knew that the 'fashion impaired' and the 'intellectually impaired' were meant to be. Trust me – those two were joined at the hip like Siamese twins not a week after she started," he continued.

"_Marc_, just stick to the script!" Betty muttered, subtly but firmly. "I'm getting to it – just let me finish . . ." he insisted, going on. "I know I make fun of them all the time, and in the past I've found ways to undermine their success. But honestly, I've always admired some part of them. _Sorry, Willie!_" he cringed, noticing Wilhelmina evilly glaring at him.

"To have the strength and confidence that they do . . . to have such a solid, loving bond without any strings attached – not caring about appearances or superficial things . . . It's amazing how much these two have gone through for each other. I only hope to one day have what they have," Marc confessed, timidly glancing at Troy. "Okay – enough with the lovefest - on to the legal stuff! Daniel, your professions for your Perky Princess . . ." he signaled Daniel to speak.

Daniel took a deep breath, hoping he wouldn't screw anything up. But then he remembered he had the lucky handkerchief, the one that kept Betty's father from floundering. He thought of his own father, how poised he was during any public speaking, and knew if they could get through those important moments that he could, too.

"I-I remember you slamming into that glass door in your poncho like it was yesterday, thinking you couldn't possibly be my new assistant . . . all the horrible things I did to make you quit . . . but then I began to see something in you that no one else did – your fiery spirit, your intelligence, your loyalty, your selflessness, your creativeness . . . the way you hardly let anything get you down," Daniel nervously squeezed her hands.

"You could always see the good in people – in _me_ - even when I wasn't so sure of myself . . . You're beautiful, Betty – inside and out. Over the years that I've known you, you've inspired me to be a better person . . . you've inspired so many other people," he looked around at all of their guests, knowing Betty had touched so many of their lives in one way or another.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. The one regret I have is not seeing it sooner. I never want to spend another day without hearing you laugh or seeing you smile – giving you everything you could ever dream of; you deserve it more than anyone I know," Daniel confidently smiled, drawing his hand to her cheek.

"We've been through so much already that I hope I'll never have to see you cry again. But life has a funny way of creating obstacles on the road to happiness. I-I can't promise you we won't have our problems, but I _can_ promise you that we can get through anything as long as we do it together. We're a team, Betty, and I love you - more than anything in this world," he finished, a crack forming in his throat.

"Betty," Marc sniffed, drying his eyes with his loosened ascot. Betty could feel the puddles forming and quickly blinked the tears away before her mascara started to run. How could she possibly follow Daniel's heartfelt words? She searched in her mind for what she had rehearsed, but knew it wasn't enough. So she decided to start with it and go from there.

"Daniel, nothing can come close to expressing what you mean to me. You're my rock, my strength . . . when everything goes wrong you're always there to catch me when I fall. If I need a shoulder to cry on or someone to make me laugh – or just to understand what I'm going through, you've been there. You're my best friend . . . I-I can't imagine my life without you in it," she shakily spoke.

"Looking back, I never thought we would ever be here - standing in front of our family and closest friends, promising to love and stand by each other for the rest of our lives. I guess in retrospect, it all makes perfect sense, because it's what we've always done for each other," she shyly smiled.

"When we met, you were a rich playboy whose only concern as far as the public knew was which model you'd take to the next big party or what fancy restaurant you'd eat at for dinner. But underneath all that posturing, I got to see the real Daniel Meade - the guy who has real problems, a kind heart, and deserves his Harvard degree . . . You were always an amazing man, you just needed a little push – some guidance in the right direction - just like I did. You did that for me," Betty swallowed back tears.

"We helped each other grow. And somehow along the way I slowly began to care for you more than I realized. Face it – I sacrificed so much over the years to help you or to hang out with you. I can't believe it didn't hit me much earlier why you were more important to me than anything else. But I'm so glad you finally got through to me, because being with you has made me happier than I've ever been before. I love you, Daniel, and I will never stop," she assured him.

"Okay, let's get to the rings before I start blubbering all over again," Marc wept. Daniel and Betty wiped each other's tears before Daniel made a strange hand signal. "Daniel what was that?" Betty asked, puzzled. "Shh . . . you'll see," he told her, motioning for her to look up as a white owl flew over to them carrying a small bag which held their wedding bands. "Oh my god – this is incredible!" she beamed. Everyone else was awestruck as well.

"I thought you might like it," he smiled, handing her his ring, and indicating for Marc to continue. "Okay, Daniel, repeat after me: I, Daniel Nikolas Meade, take you, Beatriz Maria Suarez, to have and to hold, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as we both shall live," Marc instructed. "I, Daniel Nikolas Meade, take you, Beatriz Maria Suarez, to have and to hold, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as we both shall live," Daniel vowed, placing the platinum diamond band on Betty's finger.

"Betty - I, Beatriz Maria Suarez, take you, Daniel Nikolas Meade, to have and to hold, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as we both shall live," Marc directed. "I, Beatriz Maria Suarez, take you, Daniel Nikolas Meade, to have and to hold, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as we both shall live," Betty promised, sliding the 8mm platinum band with smooth beveled edges on Daniel's finger.

"By the power vested in me by the Priests of Prada, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride," Marc smiled. Betty and Daniel both gave each other perplexed looks, but shrugged it off. Daniel gently cupped her face in his hands and drew her in for a passionate yet tasteful kiss. They happily walked back up the aisle together before briefly greeting their guests and taking pictures, prior to the reception.

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"I can't believe Lindsay's wife was my nurse, Aubrey!" Betty said as she and Daniel danced at their reception, located in the castle's formal ballroom. "Small world, isn't it?" Daniel replied before dipping her. Betty giggled as a panicked Marc approached them. "How's my favorite non-gay couple? Betty, you look fabulously gorgeous as usual!" Marc gushed.

"What'd you do, Marc?" Betty turned to him and judgingly crossed her arms. "Do? I didn't _do_ anything! What makes you think I did?" he nervously questioned. "Because you never call me anything but fat or ugly unless something really bad has happened," she pointed out. "Okay, fine. I was talking to that old British guy with the glasses and he mentioned something that could be a _teeny tiny_ problem . . ." Marc fearfully cringed as he led them into a back hallway.

"What?" Betty and Daniel both demanded an explanation. "You're gonna laugh at this I swear. I'll have you rolling so hard –" he stalled. "_Marc!_" they yelled. "_Weeeelllll_ . . . he said since we didn't have an official witness or whatever at the ceremony that you're not _technically_ married," Marc hurriedly spat out and tried to run. "_Get. Back. Here_," Daniel commanded grabbing Marc's arm. "Now, you're going to explain to us _why _you didn't look into this like I asked you to," he insisted.

"I-I was certified over the internet – I-I thought that meant _everywheerree!_" Marc whined. "Damn it, Marc!" Betty groaned. "You _idiot!_ What the hell were you thinking? I'm gonna kick your freakin' ass so hard –" Daniel threatened. "Daniel – stop! Calm down. As much as I wanna kill him right now, it won't solve anything," Betty reasoned.

"Marc – I'm giving you a chance to save your ass before I change my mind. But if you tell _anyone_ we're not legally married, Daniel and I will _both_ come after you!" Betty warned, clutching his collar. "Okay, okay. I swear on my favorite Gucci ensemble!" he promised, scurrying back into the reception.

"How are you not that pissed about this? Are you _happy_ we're not really . . . legally bound?" Daniel incredulously flailed his arms. "Of course not, baby. I just think we might be over-reacting a little," she told him. "Over-reacting? _Over-reacting?_ I think it's _under-reacting_ not to pommel Marc into the next universe – one where there are no fashionable clothes or beautiful people anywhere!" he argued.

"And the only food available is high in fat, calories, and carbs?" she joked, managing to form a small smile on his face. "Daniel, this isn't what I imagined either. After the beautiful ceremony and this great reception . . . all of the people we truly love around us . . . It was perfect and I thought nothing could ruin it. But it did and we have to deal with it. So I'm trying to be rational and look on the bright side," Betty said. "I should've guessed," Daniel shook his head.

"Think about it," she coaxed, lightly tracing her fingers over his chest. "Not only do we get _one_ wedding night, but we'll also have _another_ wedding night in Cabo San Lucas," she smiled, slyly. "I can't argue with that . . ." he deviously grinned, creating a path of kisses down her neck and over her bare shoulder.

"I think it's time to throw the bouquet," she suggested as she nibbled on his ear, feeling a pleasant shiver run down her spine. "Let's go – we've had to wait way too long for this," he agreed. "Definitely," she smiled, knowingly, and took his hand.

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"Babe, what are you doing? I thought I ripped everything off of you an hour ago," Daniel complained as he lay impatiently underneath the sheets of the king-size bed in the plush honeymoon suite of the gothic castle. Their wedding attire and shoes decorated the room, haplessly thrown everywhere. "I'm cold," she said. "Then come back over here and I'll find creative ways to warm you up . . ." he replied with a devilish smile.

"_Daniel _. . . I told you – I want to make sure we'll have everything we need to make our marriage legal," she told him as she sat in a white fluffy robe at the hotel-provided desktop computer. Daniel sighed, but knew not to argue when Betty had her mind focused on something. "Now, it says here that we need our birth certificates, Tourist Visas – we'll get those on the plane - but we'll have to get blood tests done once we're there. Let's see . . ." she said, scrolling down the page.

"Spend at least two to four days – which won't be a problem because we'll be there an entire week . . . can have the civil ceremony wherever you choose if you pay extra . . . Uh-oh," Betty suddenly got quiet. "What? What's wrong?" Daniel asked, sitting up. "Um . . . it's nothing!" she lied, not wanting to ruin the moment.

"If it's the money, you know it's not a problem," he assured her. "No – that's not it . . ." she trailed off, feeling a little guilty. "Then what is it? Some strange ritual?" he joked, curiously approaching her in his boxer briefs.

"They need a d-death certificate," she revealed. "Because I'm a widower . . . they want proof Molly's dead before I marry you . . ." Daniel solemnly finished for her, slowly sitting at the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry, Daniel. M-Maybe we shouldn't be doing this – maybe this is a sign we should stop," Betty began to doubt everything. "What? No! Betty, what are you talking about?" he said, confused.

"I-It just hit me that I'm stealing someone's husband in a way. I know she's gone, but I feel guilty. It's not like you were divorced – like either of you wanted to be apart . . ." Betty confessed. "Betty, we weren't having an affair either. When Molly knew she was dying, she told me two things – that she never wanted me to forget her, and that she wanted me to be happy. No one wants to think of their partner with someone else, but Molly liked you. She saw the lengths we would go to for each other," he smiled.

"And I don't know what I would've done without you, when she died. Even though I didn't know her for that long, I wanted so bad to save her – to give her a life without any pain. In my head, I knew there was nothing I could've done, but my heart wouldn't let it go," he admitted.

"It took me so long before I didn't feel responsible – you helped me finally see that. You helped me to move on. You were always so selfless. You made me happy again – truly happy - without sex or drugs or cults, but by simply being my friend. You have _nothing_ to feel guilty about," Daniel assured her.

"I'm sorry . . . I didn't mean to screw up our night. It's just we've never really talked about this – not since we've been together, anyway. It kind of snuck up on me out of nowhere; I've never thought about it before now and maybe I should have," she lowered her head. "Betty, look at me," he said, lifting her chin. "You are _not_ replacing Molly – just like no one could ever replace _you_. I loved you both, in different ways," he told her, pulling her onto his lap.

"I guess we never talked about it because it was an awkward subject to bring up once we became more than friends, even when you had seen me hit rock-bottom – or maybe _because_ you did. I wasn't comfortable saying much around you anymore; you feeling guilty or second best was what I was trying to avoid. But I obviously failed at preventing that from happening," he chuckled, disappointed in himself.

"It's okay. I don't want you to feel like you can't talk about her. She was your wife and you loved her. And you're right - look at Papi and Elena. It took a while for me to get used to seeing him serious with someone besides my mother, but I know she'll never replace Mami even though he loves Elena just as much," she reflected.

"_Exactly._ Now, can I interest you in a happier activity?" Daniel proposed, his lips against her cheek as he untied her robe. "What did you have in mind?" Betty formed a not-so-curious smile. "Showing you just how much I love you . . ." he replied, sliding the robe off of her shoulders, exposing her naked body. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt," she teased as he gently laid her back on the bed.


	21. Epilogue

_Hey! Here's the final addition to this Detty story. Thank you to everyone who read and/or responded along the way - it meant a lot! I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did writing it! :)_

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3 Years Later . . .

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"Do you really have to get up, now?" Daniel groaned as he and Betty lay in bed. "_Yeeees . . ._ I need to pick up a few last minute things before we leave and you said you needed to stop by your office," she reminded him as she pecked him on the nose and attempted to leave.

"What's your rush? And don't tell me you're running out to buy more stuff for those babies, because I swear if you pack anymore into those ten Louis Vuitton suitcases of yours we'll exceed the weight limit on the jet," he teased, pulling her back down to face him. "You're exaggerating by a long shot – I only have two suitcases and a duffel bag. Besides, I thought you'd be happy I'm still putting your mother's wedding present to good use," she reasoned. Daniel chuckled.

"And you know I can't help but spoil the babies. Speaking of which, you're not innocent in all of this. I remember a certain someone helping me pick out half of it," Betty pointed out. Daniel guilty lowered his head. "Now - our flight is scheduled to leave at noon and it's already 7AM. That leaves a little over an hour for me to shop before I have to get back here. And for your information, these things I'm getting are for _Hilda_," Betty defended herself.

"I'm sorry, baby. I know you're excited – I am too. But I just want a little more alone time with my sexy wife before we're in New York for a week – especially since your dad just recently found out about us not being legally married when he gave you away," Daniel explained as his lips made a trail along her collarbone. "Yeah, well I think he softened knowing we became legit in _Mexico_," she assured him, trying everything to resist his seductive moves.

"Couldn't you just get Chloe to pick up whatever it is you need?" he said. Betty sat up. "_Nooo . . ._ _A. _Because, unlike _some people_, I don't make my assistants run my personal errands," she poked his bare chest, giving him a knowing look. "And _B._ I'm not exactly sure what I want to get," she finished.

Daniel pouted, his lips lowering to the top of her breasts as his hands simultaneously fondled them from under her cami, a last effort at coaxing her to stay. Betty softly gasped with pleasure and knew she had failed resistance. "Well, I guess I could spare a_ few_ more minutes – especially since we won't have any privacy once we get there," she playfully conceded as she ran her hand over his ass, toying with the band of his pajama bottoms, until her phone rang. Daniel moaned in frustration as they were interrupted.

"Hilda? Why are you calling so early?" Betty answered. "Listen, Mamita, you'd better get your ass over here _now_, because I don't know how much longer I can hold these suckers in!" Hilda warned. "What are you talking about - your C-section's not 'til tomorrow?" Betty said, puzzled. "Yeah, well apparently _I'm_ not the boss here. Plane! _Now!_" Hilda screamed before hanging up. Startled, Betty stared at her phone for a few seconds before comprehending everything.

"We need to go. Can you tell Cam to get the jet ready?" she informed her curious husband, scrambling out of their bed. "Yeah, I'll call him right now. What's going on?" he asked. "Hilda's apparently having really bad contractions and isn't sure if she'll last 'til we get there – much less 'til tomorrow," Betty replied, rushing to the bathroom. Daniel grabbed his phone.

"Where's my contact solution?" she freaked out. "You already packed it – don't ask me why," he answered, amused at how her anal-retentiveness managed to occasionally bite her in the ass. "I bet your toothbrush is in there too," he smirked, hurriedly dialing the pilot's number. "Shut up!" she good-naturedly grumbled.

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"Did we make it in time? Did we miss it?" Betty and Daniel ran into the hospital's maternity waiting room out of breath. "No, you made it just in time. Bobby did that complicated phone typing thing saying they were prepping Hilda for the procedure," Ignacio assured them. "Oh, thank god!" Betty exclaimed. "Good!" Daniel sighed, relieved he didn't have to listen to his wife complain about being too late because he couldn't find his new 500GB IPad.

"By the way, Papi, it's called _texting_," Ignacio's daughter corrected him. "Texting . . . email . . . Tooter . . . too many things you kids use for me to keep up with," Ignacio shook his head. Betty and Daniel snickered at her father's technological ignorance. "Where are Mom and Justin?" Daniel wondered.

"Your mother just stepped out to get some coffee at the shop downstairs. Justin's staying with Marisol – she wouldn't have lasted more than an hour in this place – much less ten," Ignacio chuckled. "Oh, here's Leah – she'll take you two in," he told both of them, guiding them toward the nurse and introducing them.

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"Heeey you two. How are Mommy and Daddy?" Hilda greeted Betty and Daniel as they walked in from scrubbing. "Obviously not as good as _you_ are . . ." Betty teased, seeing she was loopy from the meds. "I'm numbed and drugged – couldn't be better!" she grinned. "Are you guys ready for this?" Bobby smiled, noticing the doctors were ready to begin. "As ready as we'll ever be," Daniel joked. "Welcome to parenthood, man!" Bobby chuckled.

"Okay, Betty and Daniel, get ready to meet your first baby . . . it's a girl!" Dr. Reynolds exclaimed as she cut the cord and handed the crying baby to a nurse, who swabbed her mouth and cleaned her up before handing her to Betty. "Five pounds, three ounces, 18 inches," she informed them.

"Oh my god! Look at her, Daniel!" Betty cooed, entranced in the moment that had finally come. "She's beautiful . . . She's got your brown eyes . . . and your dark hair . . . your olive complexion . . . she looks just like you," Daniel said, misty-eyed. He softly and briefly kissed Betty, amazed that they had created someone so small . . . someone so perfect . . .

"Congratulations, Mama!" Hilda smiled as Betty held the baby down for her sister to see. "Thank you," Betty sincerely told her, a tear trickling down her cheek as she squeezed her free hand. "She's got your chubby little cheeks, too," Bobby added. "_Bobby . . ._" she protested, but couldn't resist smiling. "Our Chipmunk with a little Chipette," he spoke in awe as he witnessed the three of them.

As a boy and another girl were born and Betty, Daniel, and Bobby each held one of the triplets, Betty couldn't help but think of everything she and Daniel had gone through to have just _one_ baby – much less _three_ at once. After her ectopic pregnancy, they had tried again shortly after they were married but sadly it ended in yet another miscarriage. Fortunately, it was not ectopic and no further damage was done to her body.

Eventually she and Daniel had decided, after talking with Dr. Andrews, that it might be best to harvest some of her eggs - just in case her other fallopian tube did burst at some point. The doctor suggested that they find a surrogate, instead of continuing to try on their own, because it was clear Betty was having trouble carrying a child to term.

They had spent hours deciding whether to hire someone or to ask someone that they knew, finally coming up with Hilda. She was family - someone they both trusted and knew would be responsible while carrying their baby.

It was true that Hilda had had a miscarriage before. However, she had also had two successful pregnancies – one following her miscarriage. Hilda and Bobby were both very gracious about helping them, even while they were trying to raise a daughter of their own, who was under the age of two at the time.

Obviously it hadn't been easy living on opposite sides of the ocean, but modern technology made it easier. They had Skyped and Bobby had used his Flip video camera through ultrasound visits, along with sending them the DVDs. Hilda emailed her weekly picture updates of how big she was getting.

Betty and Daniel flew in for weekend visits as the babies got old enough to kick and respond to sound. And as the time grew closer to Hilda's planned C-section, Claire had given them full access of the Meade jet, just in case there was an emergency.

Their families had been very accommodating throughout the entire experience. Her father and Claire had even offered to stay with them in London for a few weeks after the babies were born to help them get adjusted to parenting. Alexis and DJ would also be staying for a week. With three newborns, she and Daniel both knew they'd need all the help they could get.

She and Daniel had never imagined they'd actually have triplets, but knew it was a possibility when dealing with fertility drugs, and didn't want to lower their chances of having not having a child at all. In a way, it worked out for the best because she knew at some point, they would want to have another child.

Asking her sister once was a lot as it was, but twice would be pushing it. And after all of the horror stories she had read about surrogates, she was thankful to not have to take that risk – especially since both she and Daniel were well-known in the media and more likely to be taken advantage of . . .

"Betty?" Daniel snapped her back to the present. "Everyone wants to know their names?" he prompted. "Well, we decided this princess' name is Gabriella Elizabeth. We both liked Gabriella and I liked Elizabeth better than Beatriz as the longer version of Betty," she responded to her sister and brother-in-law's curious eyes and looked at Daniel.

"This little guy is Nikolas Robert - Nikolas, for my middle name and Robert, after you, Bobby. If it weren't for you, Betty and I might not be together today," Daniel explained, holding his son, who was the spitting image of himself as a baby with fair skin, blue eyes, and blond hair. "Don't mention it, man," Bobby modestly held back the immense pride he felt.

"And this little miracle . . ." Betty came over to Bobby, who was holding her dark brown haired, blue-eyed, olive-skinned daughter. "Daniel and I . . . W-We'll never be able to thank you enough for what you've done for us . . . but as a start, we thought you should name her – within reason," Betty told Hilda, tears of gratitude brimming from her eyes. "Well if I had had two girls, I always would've wanted to name the second Mercedes and her middle name after Mami," Hilda suggested after pondering it for a minute.

"Mercedes – that's a really cool name – like the car," Daniel commented. "_No_ not like the car!" Betty groaned. "Sorry, Hilda. We're not naming her that unless my language-impaired husband proves he can pronounce it correctly," she rolled her eyes at Hilda and sighed before turning back to Daniel. "Okay. Mercedes. _Mer_ – like the female horse, _ce_ – like _se-_dimentary rock, and des – like _Des-_i Arnaz. _Mercedes._ Try it!" Betty encouraged him.

"Mer-ce-des. Mercedes?" he pronounced, unsure. "Great! So what do you think?" she asked. "I like it – it really is a cool name! Mercedes Rosa Meade," he agreed. "Looks like it's a yes," Betty told her sister. "And of course, we want you both to be our babies' godparents," she smiled. "Aww . . . that's so sweet," Hilda said, with tears in her eyes. "We'd be honored," Bobby smiled.

"I'd better go tell our parents before they start to worry," Daniel said, carefully handing Nikolas over to Betty. "You did a wonderful job, Hilda. Thank you so much," Daniel smiled, leaning over to kiss his sister-in-law on the forehead before leaving.

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Betty silently stood in the pale-yellow, jungle-themed nursery, with light green accents. It was aesthetically decorated, with framed pictures Daniel and Betty had taken at the Bronx and London Zoos hung from the side walls above the three cribs and three bassinettes.

Different enormous-sized plush zoo animals from FAO Schwartz, including a giraffe, lion, white Bengal tiger, and an African elephant had their own special nook on the left side of the window seat, located on the back wall of the room. The long window bench, located on the back wall of the room had a comfortable light green cushion and was accented with a few smaller plush animals, while a valance highlighted the window itself.

The rocking chair Betty had been rocked in as a baby sat in the opposite corner of the window seat, refinished and newly upholstered. A small built-in bookcase behind it held childhood stories Daniel and Betty had been told. A large, jungle-themed rug with green and yellow highlights covered the middle of the dark cherry-wooded floor, coordinating with the valance. And Daniel's rocking horse would soon hold a place in their family room, when the triplets were old enough to ride it.

"Need me to call in the troops?" Daniel quietly asked, wrapping his arms around Betty's waist as he approached her from behind. Betty shook her head. "You know, the second I think I'm finally getting the hang of this, one of them starts to cry – and I thought _Justin_ had been a pain," she sighed. Daniel chuckled, sympathetically kissing her cheek then resting his chin on her shoulder.

"I know exactly what you mean. When you were taking a shower, and our parents were making dinner, I thought they were all settled, but then Nikky needed to be changed and Meri had the hiccups, and I think Gabby just felt left out because she started crying too," he rolled his eyes.

"Think they're taking bets to see which one of us cracks first?" Betty joked, as they quietly peeked into each of the babies' classic, dark cherry bassinettes. "Maybe . . ." Daniel laughed as he moved a few stuffed toys, propping his feet up in the window seat and pulling her down with him. Betty rested her back against his chest. "It's actually pretty quiet for once," she contentedly observed.

"I don't know what we're gonna do once your dad and my mom leave. I know Alexis and DJ are coming next week and we hired Ingrid, but there are four of us now - for the most part. What happens when there are only two at time?" he worried. "We'll work it out. Besides, Ingrid's been a nanny for forty years – she was highly recommended by the editor of The European Parenting Magazine. _And_ she's dealt with sextuplets – our three should be a breeze," she assured him.

"You're right. But I guess it's a good thing I became head of the art department instead of sticking with sales. Overseeing shoots and approving designs doesn't require as much time at the office, but it pays just as much. A couple of days at the office or on location is a lot better than five. The rest I can do from home," he reflected.

"And I can do a lot from home as well – I can manage to work from here at least one or two days a week, depending on my schedule. Plus, there's always the built-in daycare when we need it," she added. "So this is it – two and a half more weeks of immense help and then we're back to work full-time and on our own – except for Ingrid," he let it sink in. "Yep," she said. "Scared?" he asked. "Terrified," she confessed. "Me, too," he agreed.

"But I know two things: I love you and I love our children – I wouldn't trade them or you for the world," he admitted. "Me neither . . . It's amazing how far we've come since the day we met. We're _married_ – we have _triplets!_ Isn't that _insane?_" she incredulously giggled. "Ludicrous – but I couldn't ask for anything better," he sincerely told Betty, drawing her in for a familiar yet passionate kiss that always left her wanting more.

"I agree – I've got everything I could ever ask for . . . I love you so much," Betty gently captured his lower lip and stroked his jawline, emphasizing her point. As she snuggled her head in the crook of his neck, Daniel rested his head on hers and sighed, happily. Knowing any second a child might start to cry, they savored every peaceful moment as long as they could - simply grateful to have found each other.


End file.
